


An Exercise In Trust

by organizechaos



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's main touch-starvity is in the last chapter, Comfort, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley loses his memory, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Memory Loss, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, No Sex, No Smut, Not Beta Read, Other, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Rated T for language, Sickfic, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Temporary Amnesia, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Aziraphale (Good Omens), Touch-Starved Crowley (Good Omens), can be read as an asexual relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26265457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/organizechaos/pseuds/organizechaos
Summary: The story is complete, I'll update on Friday's ;)It’s been eleven years since Armageddon and Heaven and Hell have been conspiring to restart it. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley moved in together, got married, and are overall really happy.When their former bosses finally confront them — attacking with an object that will take centuries worth of memories from the ineffable pair — something goes a little wrong in the process… Crowley takes the full hit.(Basically, it’s just about +37,000 words worth of Crowley being a confused mess at why Aziraphale’s finally reciprocating his love)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 126
Kudos: 310





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! This is my second story on this site, it is complete but also really long. So some things you guys should know:
> 
> \- My chapter lengths are inconsistent BUT they are all between (about) 2000 to 5000 words. So there's a good chunk to read after every posting   
>  \- I also have little flashbacks that are in bold throughout the story which you can skip if it isn't your thing (they aren't really all that important. I just started writing them and couldn’t stop lol).  
>  \- This particular chapter is from Aziraphale’s perspective but the majority of the story is in Crowley’s. So… just a heads up ;)  
>  \- I think that’s all for now <3
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy! (If there are any tags you believe are missing please let me know. I’m still pretty new to all of this) <3 <3 <3

**11 years ago (2019)**

**Crowley sat stock still, not quite believing what he had just heard. "You _what_?" His voice barely above a whisper.**

**"I love you," Aziraphale repeated, eyes looking anywhere but the demon in front of him. This was already hard enough as it was; but after everything, Crowley deserved the truth.**

**"Ngk." The serpent nodded, gulping down whatever liquid was left in his cup. "I- I do too. Um... same. You know…"**

**The angel smiled down at his lap, fidgeting nervously.**

**He hoped that confessing wasn’t a mistake, that he had finally done the right thing. His moral compass had always seemed to be pointing just off of ‘right’; but for Go- _someone’s_ sake, they had just stopped the apocalypse... they deserved to be happy.**

**Golden eyes were staring at the angel in a mix of awe, pride, and love, face blushing like never before. “I love you too,” the demon choked out.**

**_Definitely not a mistake then_ , the angel thought as Crowley shifted just a little bit closer to him. This felt too right to be wrong.**

**Present (2030)**

Aziraphale smiled, looking down at their intertwined hands resting on the table. A silver band engraved with a snake was wrapped tightly around his finger, shining brightly in the ambiance of the Ritz. Crowley had on a ring of his own. One Aziraphale had carried with him for the entirety of his time on earth, the gold band that he had treasured and worn on his pinky. Now, it was Crowley’s to wear. 

They had only been married for about five years now, which wasn’t all that long considering their eternal lifespan. But given their past, they recognized that their relationship had been forged long ago, so much so that it had surpassed the human’s definition of ‘love’ or ‘marriage’ by this point. It was just a matter of labels that they were still wading through. 

"Are you going to finish eating angel?" Crowley asked, squeezing Aziraphale's hand gently. “No rush, but I did have something planned after dinner if you ever decided to finish up,” he grinned mischievously.

The angel shook himself out of his thoughts and smiled fondly at his husband. "Oh don’t tempt me love.” he chuckled, “Of course I’m going to finish, this tiramisu is just to die for! You really should try it."

Crowley shook his head, golden eyes peeking over his shades at the angel for a brief moment. That same look of absolute adoring love that warmed the angel to his core every time he had the privilege of seeing it. 

Aziraphale lifted their hands up to his lips and kissed Crowley’s wrist reverently. Grinning at the usual blush and “ngk!” he had come to expect during public displays of affection. 

With a soft smile, he released the demon's hand to tuck in for his dessert. 

Things hadn’t always been this effortless. You would think that it would have been smooth sailing for the ineffable couple after gaining their independence, but that was far from reality. 

For Aziraphale — who had to transition from years of emotional and mental abuse to a sudden independence — it was like being dipped into a frigid ice bath. He had never had to deal with such explicit outcasting from his home as his demonic partner had. And as much as he tried to ignore or deny it, he needed time to heal. 

In the angel’s eyes, that process hadn’t been at all fair to Crowley. The demon was sympathetic with his outbursts and regressive tendencies; which only fueled Aziraphale’s perception that he was only pulling Crowley down, making the demon's life needlessly difficult. 

Crowley had once tried to explain that he understood and recognized the traumas inflicted on his angel. The demon _knew_ it would take time to heal and told Aziraphale such. Healing wasn’t a linear process. But the angel still didn’t understand. 

Aziraphale’s thoughts always circled back to: Why couldn’t he move past this little hiccup? It was supposed to be over. He wasn’t even in contact with heaven anymore, it wasn’t like they could still _hurt_ him. Adam had stopped Armageddon. Crowley and Aziraphale had gotten fired from their jobs. They were just supposed to focus on _them_ now. 

But it wasn’t like that for many, many years. 

There were periods of regression that spun both the demon and angel into a panic. There were times when one or both needed space from each other. There were arguments — mainly started by Aziraphale — on how their relationship wasn’t working because of their previous affiliations. 

Of course the arguments were never _really_ about previous affiliations, the both of them knew that. It was much deeper insecurities the angel was having trouble accepting. Feelings of inadequacy in the relationship previously mentioned. He hated how it was only Crowley moving their relationship forward while Aziraphale seemed to stumble one step forward and two steps back at every turn. 

It was never Aziraphale’s intention to hurt Crowley or to argue aimlessly. It was just difficult for him to break out of old habits. He loved Crowley more than anything and had spent centuries trying to repress those feelings and urges. It wasn’t something that went away overnight — despite the early confession. 

Even now, eleven years later, Aziraphale still had bad days — granted they weren’t nearly as bad as his earlier ones — but he was much better at communicating what he needed… they both were.

It seemed that they were finally at the same pace. They had gotten married, moved in together in a nice little cottage in South Downs, and occasionally checked up on their mortal friends from the apocalypse. Things were finally _good_. 

Until they weren’t.

Crowley’s body stiffened besides Aziraphale, who noticed immediately. He paused in his chewing, raising a questioning eyebrow at the demon.

"What are _they_ doing here?" Crowley hissed angrily. He grabbed onto the angel's hand and pulled him to standing. Aziraphale grunted in surprise, fork clattering down to the table. _What had gotten into him all of a sudden?_

"Who's here, love?" he asked reluctantly following his husband's lead. The tiramisu he had just begun to eat had been absolutely scrumptious, he would hate to just leave it on the table. One of the waiters could snatch it up, thinking he was done — which he _wasn’t_.

Crowley tugged him off to the side, " _Them_." he pointed to the archangel and prince of hell a few feet away. _Oh, that wasn’t good_. The sight of his former boss made Aziraphale slightly sick. He had hoped to never see Gabriel ever again. That part of his life was supposed to be over.

"Oh dear. Do you think they’re here for us?" he asked, pulling Crowley behind him defensively. He had worked hard to be able to keep the demon in his life, he wasn't about to let some violet eyes in a suit smite his love out of existence.

"No. I'm sure they heard the raving reviews of the Ritz and just had to try it," Crowley muttered sarcastically, weaving through the servers to get to the nearest exit.

Aziraphale wasn’t really listening as he tried to focus on not panicking. Crowley was here. They were together. And as long as they were together, everything would turn out _fine_. The Bentley was just outside, all they had to do was get in it and leave. That should be easy enough.

Still, his heart pounded and he could feel his nervous ticks coming back into play as he followed the demon through the restaurant. He risked a glance back at the unwanted guests and his breathing hitched as two pairs of eyes — one holy and one unholy — trained on him. 

_Fuck_.

The archangel and prince advanced aggressively, shoving the humans out of their way as if they were merely objects. Gabriel had a sick smile on his face while Beezlebub scowled. 

Aziraphale hurried his husband forward, not wanting to be anywhere near their old bosses. 

"Why now?" he asked as they made a beeline for the exit, "It's been years since the apocalypse-" 

There was a thunderous snap, and the doors in front of them slammed shut. Another miracle barreled into them, making it impossible for them to miracle themselves to safety. They whirled around, Gabriel and Beezlebub were still a ways away but approaching fast. 

"Oh no I'm sure this is purely a _social_ call. They probably made a peace treaty and wanted to ask us to be a part of their big happy family," Crowley growled, sarcasm dripping from his tongue as he tugged on the door uselessly.

Aziraphale blinked in momentary confusion. _What was that supposed to mean?_

Crowley turned to see their pursuers closing in. His body tensing in panic, "Move!" He shoved Aziraphale to the side so they both could scramble away, putting as much distance between them and their old bosses as possible. 

"You can't get away from us this time," Beelzebub's voice buzzed through the air. The humans around them were making themselves scarce, "You will be coming back to your respective offices so the war may commence!"

Crowley grabbed a meat knife from a nearby table and threw himself in front of Aziraphale, “Stay behind me."

"What? Dearest no," Aziraphale said, eyeing Gabriel warily, "We will face this together, like we always do. I'm sure there's a perfect-" A wave of hellfire flew at them. Crowley threw himself in front of the blaze and took the blow, getting flung into his angel's arms. Aziraphale gaped down at him in shock.

"Beezelbub," Gabriel reprimanded, glaring at his counterpart, "we're meant to be cursing them, not killing them."

The demon prince huffed, " _Relax_. They're both immune to hellfire, it wouldn't hurt them.” they gestured to the pair, “Look, they’ve stopped running."

Aziraphale felt fear creep into his bones. If Beezelbub was so keen to be throwing hellfire around, who knew what would happen. Their ruse could be uncovered and they could both be in danger. 

He gulped and helped Crowley to his feet.

"What do you want?" Aziraphale called out, voice barely wavering, "We were assured we would be left alone."

The archangel laughed, sending chills down the angels spine, "We had originally thought the same, until we realized what we were missing out on." He adjusted his cufflinks, smirking at the former principality, "An angel immune to hellfire, unheard of! With you on our side, Aziraphale. We would be unstoppable in the war against evil."

"The same for if we got our hands on the only demon to ever be immune to holy water. _We_ would finally win against the enemy." Beezelbub glared in Gabriel’s direction as they rubbed stray hellfire sparks on their overcoat.

"That’s never going to happen," Aziraphale responded, voice low and almost menacing. 

Yes, he was scared out of his mind but they had just thrown hellfire at his _husband_. Who did they think they were?!

Gabriel waved off the comment, "Of course you won't _now_. That's why we need you to forget!" he said, much too cheerful for the sinister threat that he was making.

"You'll never get away with this," Crowley hissed, "You can't take us."

"Who said anything about _taking_ you? We will just take your memories of the past few centuries and poof!" the prince grinned, "we have our agents back and the war will commence."

Aziraphale stiffened besides Crowley, eyes widening in fear. 

Could they _do_ that? He reached out, taking the demon's hand and squeezing tightly. He couldn’t lose his memories. He couldn't go back to the mindset he once had. _He couldn’t_. Trying to break out of that mindless obedience to heaven was absolute torture. 

"So you see, I guess you don't really have a choice," Gabriel clapped his hands together in front of him, looking very pleased with himself, "We were assured this will remove your memories and you will be believing that you still work for your respective sides. You won't even realize what you are doing!"

"It really doesn’t matter, you are about to forget all this anyway." Beezlebub pulled out, what looked to be, a cylindrical device, "But trust me, we aren't violating any of our past deals. We won't be harming or interfering in any way," They brandished the object with a wink, "besides this." 

They set it down on the ground, tapping a pattern into the top before nodding to the archangel. With the sound of thunder and the stench of sulfur, the two disappeared. Leaving the outcast angel and demon alone in the empty room. 

There was a moment of silence where the angel just stared in horror. How were they going to get out of this?

"Aziraphale come here," Crowley muttered darkly, tugging his husband towards the furthest corner of the room. The cylindrical object was starting to glow faintly.

"What?" Aziraphale whispered in response, paling at their imminent doom. Panic was starting to take over his corporation. He couldn’t lose his memory, _he couldn’t_.

"Trust me angel."

"What are we going to do? Crowley." he looked up into those golden eyes, begging for some way they could make it out of this intact. Crowley always got them out of sticky situations... but this? There was no way out, none that the angel could see. 

He didn't want to lose his memory of this, or go back to a mindset where he routinely denied any sort of relationship between them. They had worked so hard for the life they now had. And now it was going to be taken from them.

Crowley gritted his teeth together as he crowded Aziraphale as far away from the cylinder device as he could. It was glowing rather brightly now. 

The angel’s breath hitched as he looked up at his husband for what he felt was the last time. Crowley released his wings and conveniently shielded the light from the angel’s view. 

“You’re going to be fine, I promise.” Crowley whispered leaning in, there were tears in the corner of his eyes.

“How-?” the angel choked out.

“That curse doesn’t have to hit us both, angel. If you stay here I can take the full blow.” his wings stretched further around the principality until he was properly shielded away. “You won’t be harmed.”

“No.” Aziraphale looked up in horror, “no, no, no. Crowley you _can’t_. We can do this together, we always do. _Please_.” Yes, the angel wanted his memories, but surely the demon wanted them to — if not more. Asking him to take the full blow was too much. 

"Angel please. I’d rather it hit one of us than both," Crowley said quietly, his hand coming up to cradle Aziraphale’s face, "Trust me."

A tear escaped the angel’s eyes as he realized with mounting fear that their time was almost up, “It- it should be me, please Crowley. Don’t do this. There- there has to be another way. If I-”

“No time.” Crowley ducked down and stole a kiss from the angel’s quivering lips, he drew away, “Trust me.” he repeated intertwining their fingers once again.

_I do_. Azirapahle thought, squeezing the demon’s hand tightly, fighting back tears. 

This couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t. Crowley might not even survive the curse, it was meant for _two_. And if he did, all of this progress in the past decade was just going to be wiped away, as if it never happened. Only Aziraphale would remember. 

Through dark feathers, the light seemed to grow brighter and Aziraphale knew that it was now or never. "I love you," He whispered, ducking down against the demon’s chest, bracing for the worst.

"I love you too." Crowley squeezed the angel’s hand as the room went white.


	2. Wake the Snake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies! I’m very glad you guys are sticking around for the second chapter! I’m very excited. 
> 
> This is the part where we get into some more flashbacks and Crowley’s pov! It’s gonna be Crowley’s pov pretty much here on out so buckle in for a lot of questions, confusion, and angst! We love that ;) Next chapter will have some fluff and humor, so there’s that to look forward to. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this one though!
> 
> (This first flashback (538 AD) is the conversation where they’re knights in the beginning of the third episode and Crowley _does_ remember that conversation. It’s the last thing he can remember)

** 1,493 years ago (537 AD) **

**** **"Not another word!"**

**"Right."**

**"Right!"**

Crowley gasped awake, the final words of the argument with the principality echoing in his head. But to be fair, he didn’t really know what he had done that was so wrong. Was it really so bad for Aziraphale to even consider working with him? 

Sure he was a demon but they had been on earth long enough to know that their bosses didn’t _really_ care about what they did down here. And for _Satan’s sake_ , he hadn’t even attempted at anything remotely romantic — like how he wanted to. He had been a good demon and just suggested a purely business arrangement, no feelings involved. 

With a few shuddering breaths the demon felt around, trying to regain his bearings. He was _not_ in the same place he had fallen asleep. 

Where was he? 

For one it wasn’t damp. His surroundings were rather quite warm and soft, not at all the pile of cold blankets he had rested on at camp. 

Groaning he rolled over on his side, feeling like he was lying on a cloud. What had happened? Where was he? Was this somehow at all related to his argument with Aziraphale? 

He should have known better than to suggest such an arrangement with the angel. If anything had been consistent over their years together was Aziraphale’s clear barrier with seeing anything remotely similar between them. 

Obviously the angel didn’t have romantic feelings for him, but there _had_ been a sort of fondness there in recent years. Crowley would have almost called it friendship if he hadn’t gotten the angel so riled up yesterday. 

Who knew how the angel saw him now. If only Crowley had kept his stupid idea to himself, then maybe he wouldn’t be in this silly tiff. 

He pushed himself to sitting, his entire surroundings feeling like pure fluff. He realized he was in a bed — which he _definitely_ didn’t fall asleep in one. 

A frown appeared on his face as he looked at the dark comforter pooling around his hips. He was wearing — was that silk? He hadn't worn silk since he had been in Asia a few decades ago and now he was in silk… pajamas? 

Shakily he got to his feet assessing the room he was in. It was small, like a bed chamber. The windows had black-out curtains that banished all light from the room. There was a tartan blanket folded at the edge of the bed and trinkets decorating the wardrobe and side table. 

Who’s place was this? Certainly wasn’t his.

Pacing over to the window, he pulled away the curtains to see if the outside world would help him understand what was going on. Light flooded the room and he was temporarily blinded. When his vision cleared he saw that the room overlooked a lovely garden. He didn’t recognize it. 

Had he teleported himself and not known it? No, teleporting took a tremendous amount of energy. It wasn’t something someone did in their _sleep_. So what happened?

He reached out with his senses for anything that could pose for danger to him and sighed in relief when there was none. This entire place seemed to radiate _safety_.

But where was he?

From the bedside table a loud ring sounded, startling the demon from his thoughts. He whirled on the object and saw a brick-looking-thing glowing there. 

The object was oddly familiar, from something he remembered from his days in heaven… a phone? He had only ever seen blueprints but technology on earth had not advanced enough to replicate it. Maybe he wasn’t on earth? Glancing out the window at the recognizable trees and sky, he shook his head. Of course he was on earth. So then why was a futuristic phone vibrating and lighting up in 500AD? 

Unless...

The demon fumbled the phone, trying to get it to unlock. He had limited information on how to work this thing — only actually seeing a glimpse of the blueprints — but he remembered enough. 

Tapping the screen he got it to light up again and... was that a picture of _Aziraphale_? He felt a blush rise to his cheeks. How did a picture of Aziraphale get on this phone? Whose phone was this? Maybe it was Aziraphale's? 

He resolved to figure it out later as he found a calendar app and pressed on it, desperately trying to seek out the current date and... _it was June 2030?!_

Crowley stumbled back onto the bed, phone tumbling from his fingers to the floor with a loud crack. Was this true? Had he missed out on more than a thousand and a half years on Earth? _What had happened?!_

"Crowley dear?" That was Aziraphale's voice. What was he doing here? "Are you awake?"

 _Shit, shit, shit, shit!_ Crowley desperately tried to get himself under control as he all but collapsed back against the abundance of pillows. 

Aziraphale was here in this house with him. _Why?_

"Yeah." He called back, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounded. The last time he had seen the angel, Aziraphale had stormed off in anger. Who knew what happened since? Maybe Aziraphale knew what was going on? Maybe he could answer why he had suddenly awoken in the twenty-first century! Maybe he had something to do with this?

The principality appeared in the doorway and Crowley tried not to stare. The angel looked as beautiful as he always did, practically glowing where he stood. The serpent's mouth went dry as he struggled for words. Aziraphale had on a beige suit with a little bow tie. There was a tartan theme that matched the blanket at the foot of the bed. Wait. _Was he at Aziraphale's house?_

"How are you feeling?" Aziraphale asked hesitantly. Crowley noticed that the angel's eyes were red and puffy, almost as if he had been crying. Concern immediately filled the demon. _What happened_?!

"I'm fine. Of course I'm fine." He shifted his weight on the bed awkwardly. He didn't like how sad Aziraphale looked, "Are _you_ okay?"

The angel laughed weakly, entering the room to sit besides Crowley. _Well this was new_. He tried not to show his shock as Aziraphale grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. They never touched, at least never in private. There were certain cultural norms he could convince the angel to adopt in public; yet the angel was always sure to keep as much distance between them as society allowed — despite Crowley’s constant yearning to be just _a little_ bit closer. 

"Angel?" Crowley asked, his concern peaking. This whole proximity thing was new, so something had to be wrong.

Aziraphale smiled sweetly and with his free hand he wiped at his eyes. No, the angel couldn't cry. Crowley wouldn't allow it. "You remember?" the angel asked, voice shaking only slightly.

The demon was at a loss for words at this suddenly emotional principality. The way Aziraphale was looking at him with so much hope and so much- _was that love_? 

Crowley decided not to think too much about _that_. And as for the angel’s question, it didn’t matter what he was supposed to remember or not. Whatever it was, sign him up because he couldn’t stand that sad look on Aziraphale’s face for a second longer. 

Against every logical thought in his mind, he pulled the angel into a hug. It just seemed like the natural thing to do in the moment but as soon as his arms embraced the angel he froze. _Why did he do that?_

He _knew_ the angel was always skittish around touch and affection, especially involving the demon. How many times had Aziraphale denied they knew each other? That they were friends? Of all the things inconsistent in the world, that habit was always consistent. Aziraphale had changed minimally in the four thousand years he had known him. It was entirely likely that in these next thousand and a half years, nothing would change. So then _what was he doing trying to hug him?!_

He was about to pull away, flee to the furthest corner of the world and never stop apologizing until he came to the realization that the angel had melted into his touch. Aziraphale was hugging him _back_. 

_Oh.._. Maybe things had changed.

The demon released a shaky breath of relief and squeezed Aziraphale gently. He couldn't believe he was allowing him to do this, he had been craving this closeness for centuries. It all felt a little unreal, like a dream. Maybe he was dreaming? 

They stayed together for a few minutes and Crowley tried to drink in every second, knowing he probably wasn't going to be getting anymore moments like this. Holding Aziraphale was a privilege that shouldn’t be taken lightly. He doubted that hugging was a _common_ occurrence between them, no matter how many years had passed. 

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale whispered into the demon's shoulder. Crowley felt the blood drain from his face. Why was Aziraphale apologizing? He shouldn't ever have to apologize, especially to Crowley.

"No angel. Don't apologize." The serpent hushed, holding the angel tighter, trying to memorize the feeling of his body against his. The angel heaved a shuddering sigh and gently pulled away. Crowley was reluctant to let him go, but this had to end at some point. He couldn’t just hold onto Aziraphale forever. 

"Are you sure you're alright?" the angel asked blue eyes flicking over the demon’s corporation nervously.

Crowley grinned down at him, "It seems like I should be the one asking you that," he deflected. He wondered how long he could keep the ruse up that he didn't remember the past thousand and some years. A week? Two weeks?

Another blush rose to the angel’s cheeks. He looked to the ground but was overall looking better, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

"How long was I asleep?" Crowley asked with a yawn.

Aziraphale stood, flitting around the room and adjusting the little trinkets spread about. Crowley was certain that he was in the angel's home now. "A few days... Oh I was so worried."

The demon moved quickly to assure the angel that everything was okay, that he needn’t worry. "I'm fine angel, I promise. What is there to be worried about?" He genuinely wanted the answer to that one, but wasn’t prepared for Aziraphale’s explosive response.

"What wouldn't I be worried about?!" the angel cried out, going from very calm to very panicked very fast. Immediately Crowley regretted asking his question. "They said our memories would be gone! And you- you took the full blow! I was so worried that it would kill you! The dose was meant for two, but…" The angel sniffled, turning to the demon with the most heartbroken look, "I was just so scared that if it had taken your memories, if you did wake up... you would leave."

Crowley tried to grin, to lighten the mood, to do anything that would banish that saddened expression from the angel’s face. "Hey I'm still here, aren't I?" he tried softly. 

He wasn't used to this. Wasn’t used to Aziraphale being this emotional and open around him. He often had to decipher the angel’s words, actions, or microexpressions to figure out what was really going on under the surface. Not now though. It was all easily available.

More tears rolled down the angel’s cheeks and Crowley tried not to gawk. He hesitated just a second before taking up the angel’s trembling hands into his own. 

"I was so scared, we'd have to start all over," Aziraphale whimpered.

"We won't." Crowley promised as he desperately tried to piece together what had happened. The angel was crying. Crowley had supposedly taken a full dose of something that lost his memories. And Aziraphale was nervous they would have to start all over? Start _what_ all over? 

Before the demon could get much more thinking done, Aziraphale moved his hands to the back of Crowley’s neck and head and pulled him forward, their lips connecting. 

_Wait what?_

Never in a million years did he expect Aziraphale to kiss him like this. He wasn't going to lie and say he hadn't dreamed of this moment since he had met the angel. They had kissed occasionally in greeting — for cultural norms — but never on the mouth and _never_ like this. 

Aziraphale moved against him almost frantically, trying to pull him forwards as if begging for warmth or comfort. There was no hesitancy or contemplation, the angel was _really_ kissing him.

Crowley realized a little belatedly that he should probably kiss him _back_. But it was too late to start because the angel was already pulling away with a frown, blinking up into the very confused demon's eyes. 

"What's wrong?"

"Ngk." Crowley unhelpfully supplied, feeling a blush rise onto his cheeks. That was not how he expected their first kiss to go, but man was he glad it happened. Was this a common occurrence for them? He wondered hopefully. It was outlandish to even think the angel would ever hug him on the regular; but to kiss?! Impossible… and yet-

"Crowley?" Aziraphale asked, his voice low, demanding an answer.

The demon's head was still spinning as he reminisced on the kiss, barely able to form words. "Uh- ngk… hm… I may not remember as much as I initially let on," he said slowly, gazing dreamily at the angel. 

_They kissed_.

Aziraphale paled a bit, looking absolutely horrified, "Oh."

The demoned giggled before he could help himself. Would Aziraphale kiss him again? He could just lean forward and they could get right back to it, screw the memories. "Sorry. Should have told you earlier but you looked so sad. Thought I could catch-up." he giggled again, heart racing to get out of his chest.

The former principality immediately placed his hands in fists by his side and stepped away, putting distance between them. _What? No_. Crowley's heart fell. He messed it up. He shouldn't have said anything, he should have kissed back. Why hadn’t he-

"What's the last thing you remember?" Aziraphale asked in a voice the demon was all too familiar with. He had heard that tone just yesterday.

"Our argument." He said sheepishly, his hands fidgeting by his side. Could they just go back to the kissing part... for just a second?

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, "We tend to have a lot of those."

Crowley looked to the ground. If there was one thing in the world he hated more than anything, was upsetting the angel. Sure bantering was all fine and dandy, but arguments like the one from yesterday were not enjoyable at all. It was a shame that his future seemed to be littered with them. 

"I suggested an arrangement, working together. You… you didn't like it. It's- was 530AD I think? I'm not good with dates," he said quietly, shifting from foot to foot nervously. Was Aziraphale angry with him? Was he going to realize that he was a fraud and kick him out for taking advantage?

"Ah. The Arrangement." Aziraphale began to pace, clearly deep in thought.

"I'm sorry about that by the way." Crowley blurted before he could help himself. "I shouldn't have asked, it was stupid to think…" he trailed off as he realized it didn't matter anymore. This Aziraphale was nearly two thousand years past that point, it probably wasn't even a big thing to them anymore. _Just some little pesky argument in the midst of their many more arguments to come,_ Crowley thought bitterly. It didn't matter that it was at the forefront of his brain now, they were supposed to be past this.

Aziraphale blinked at Crowley, mouth working but no words were coming out. He took a breath and tried again, "You have already apologized, dear. Sent me a letter the next day."

A little burst of pride bloomed in the demon's chest. _Ah so he did do a good thing after all_. Hopefully all their future arguments were as brief as that. He couldn't imagine fighting with Aziraphale for longer.

"Wait, so you really don't remember?" 

Crowley shook his head, meeting the angel's eyes evenly, trying not to get lost in them. "One day you're mad at me, and now I wake up in your house," actually it was the angel's _bed_ , Crowley just now realized. _How crazy was that_ , "with no memory of the past thousand and some years, you're not mad but _concerned_ and then you kissed me," he blurted, still not completely over the fact that Aziraphale had kissed him.

The angel blushed, looking a little ashamed of himself, "Probably shouldn't have done that," he muttered quietly.

Crowley’s posture deflated a bit. Maybe it wasn't something they did a lot. Maybe it didn't carry the same weight that he wanted it to. _I'm glad you did_ , he thought to himself, _now I at least know what it feels like_.

"I really thought…" Aziraphale trailed off.

"It's fine angel. You know I can be convincing when I want to be and I really didn't want you to find out. But you know I can't lie to you." Crowley tried to explain, praying to Someone that he had still kept an excellent honesty record with the angel.

"I know." Aziraphale said, eyes downcast, "it just makes everything else more complicated. All my worst fears are coming true."

"It doesn't have to be like that." Crowley reassured, trying to approach Aziraphale but the principality stepped back. He continued even as his heart sunk lower, "I may be a thousand and some years younger but I can still help. What do we need to stop from happening?"

The angel's eyes started to get watery again and Crowley wasn't sure if he could mentally handle seeing his best friend cry again after he had just gotten him to calm down.

"You know what? We'll put a pin in it.” Crowley suggested abruptly, “You're upset, let's get food and talk about it later. There has to be something good around here. Oysters? You still like those right?" They hadn't eaten out together in a while. Only once since the first time in Rome. But they had enjoyed their time together thoroughly; he had thought they would make it a tradition upon seeing each other. "I mean, that is still something we do… right?" he asked weakly.

The angel smiled but a tear did roll down his cheek. He nodded. "Yes, lov- uh… dear. We still do that."

Crowley sighed in relief, relaxing a bit, "Ah good. I was hoping so." 

Aziraphale turned away, wiping at his face and walking out of the room, "Come, let's eat oysters." he called over his shoulder.

The demon grinned and followed.

** 8 years ago (2022) **

******They were back at the park, the sun setting behind them as Crowley tossed pieces of bread at the ducks. It was empty in the park this evening** — **a miracle really — and so the pair had decided to take a walk about to enjoy the scenery.**

**Aziraphale smiled at the sight of the demon being surrounded by hungry ducklings that were quacking quite adorably. The angel reached out to take the demon's hand to squeeze gently.**

**It had been a few good months for them, no outbursts or arguments. That counted as a win in his book. Tonight was just going to be a lovely evening for the two of them.**

**Crowley turned looking up at the angel with a beaming smile. The ducks were starting to waddle away at the lack of attention.**

**"Enjoying yourself dear?" Aziraphale asked quietly, shifting just a little closer.**

**Crowley nodded gesturing to the now empty bread bag, "It's evil cause ducks can't digest bread crumbs."**

**The angel frowned playfully, brushing a lock of hair out of the demon's face. "Foul fiend. Those ducks will never recover."**

**Crowley giggled and moved closer, turning slightly so they were face to face. "I love you," he whispered.**

**There was a breathless moment where they just stared at each other, a message of love just held within their gaze. They have had many moments like this. Across the bookshop, through the Bentley’s window, between the greenery of a garden. It was a common language for them.**

**But there was more to explore, there always would be.**

**The demon’s eyes flicked down to Aziraphale’s lips and back up, a question clear in his eyes. A silent invitation to try something new.**

**Aziraphale’s breath hitched and eyes fluttered closed as he met the demon half way pressing his lips against Crowley’s in a gentle kiss.**

**There wasn’t much to it, a gentle caress here, a tentative touch there, all of which accompanied by the constant connection between their lips. Both of them were careful with the other, not wanting to break this delicate new language being born between them.**

**When they finally disconnected, each were flushed and looking at each other, a giddy expression on their faces. That was their first proper kiss** — **romantic kiss. It wasn't in the rain or after a tearful confession. It was just them, feeding ducks, nearly three years after Armageddon.**

**Crowley grinned at the angel, "Too fast?"**

**"No." Aziraphale whispered, eyes flitting down to the demon’s lips, "I'd very much like to do that again, if you’re willing."**

**The demon quirked an eyebrow, "Oh really?"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, yeah sorry if I didn’t get the kissing scenes totally on point. I am someone who has never been kissed so I had little direction on how to make it realistic. Ah well… I did what I could. Hope you enjoyed it anyway! And see ya’ll next week!
> 
> (Next week's chapter is gonna be SUPER long (in the mid to high 4000 words) where we get some fluff and a touch of humor — at least _I_ think it’s funny — all interlaced in this angsty plot)
> 
> * If you guys are wondering where Crowley’s wedding ring has gone, my idea was that Aziraphale thought that if he left it with Crowley, he would run off to Hell and wouldn’t understand the significance of the ring — maybe he might accidentally lose or destroy it — so Aziraphale took it back for safe keeping, not planning on wearing it, just keeping it safe. But don’t worry, it comes back into play later on in the story ;)


	3. Let's Eat Oysters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you all for the wonderful comments and kudos!!! I really appreciate each and every one. They all give me life ;) I hope you guys will stick around for the rest of the story <3
> 
> Now, this is where it’s important to take into consideration the ‘# years ago’ on the flashbacks. They aren’t in chronological order so just a heads up that I kinda jump around a lot with those. I do try to keep them relevant to the chapter though (I’m not sure how successful I actually am at that).
> 
> This chapter takes place immediately after the last one and it is more than a thousand words Longer. That’s crazy! Not all of these chapters will be this long, so don’t get used to it ;p
> 
> Alrighty enjoy! (the pacing might be a little off… oops)

** 7 years ago (2023) **

**** **Aziraphale moaned his appreciation around a spoonful of a delectable crème brulee, "Oh my dear you simply must try it.".**

**Crowley hummed and leaned across the table, pressing his lips against the angels. With a squeak Aziraphale stared wide eyed as Crowley licked across his lips for remnants of the desert.**

**When he had finished thoroughly kissing the angel, the demon leaned back with a smirk, "Tastes wonderful."**

**Aziraphale choked and felt a rosy blush rise to his cheeks. He nervously glanced at the other customers at the Ritz, wondering if they noticed his partner's lewd behavior or not. This was supposed to be their anniversary dinner of the Apocalypse, but with the way the demon was looking at him made him, he wondered if it was the anniversary of something else entirely.**

"Why do you keep staring?" Crowley asked abruptly. Aziraphale had not stopped looking at him since he had snapped on some clothes — he couldn't very well go about in his pajamas could he? The clothes he miracled were the same fit and cut that Aziraphale was wearing, just in black. Considering he didn't know the trends of the time — and the angel was the only person he had seen since waking up — it seemed like a reasonable decision. 

Aziraphale giggled quietly, "Ah it's nothing dear. You look very dashing."

Crowley frowned. Feeling self-conscious now, he took off the bow-tie with an uncomfortable cough, "Shut up."

The angel laughed again and took the demon's arm to lead him outside. 

Crowley felt a warm feeling bubble up with the angel's arm in his, he liked this closeness, the familiarity. He was so focused on the fact that he was touching Aziraphale that he didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings as they walked through the house. Only when they got to the front door — or what Crowley assumed was the front door — did Aziraphale let go suddenly, putting more distance between them. 

"Sorry, I forget you're not used to-" he started, a blush rising on his face as if just realizing what he was doing was not his usual behavior.

"It's fine angel." Crowley interrupted before Aziraphale could finish, "I don't mind, really."

He prayed that Aziraphale would take up his arm again. Maybe, if he was lucky, the angel would pull him into another kiss or a hug? _Wouldn’t that be nice_ , he sighed dreamily. A little part of his mind kept suggesting that this was all probably just a figment of his overactive imagination. Just some overly realistic dream. The real Aziraphale would never do this. And yet... 

The angel looked away while holding the front door open for him, allowing him to step through.

As soon as he stepped out of the house, he was bombarded with light and a sleek looking capsule in front of him, resting on the angel’s driveway. It was something he had never seen before. "Woah, is that a chariot?" Crowley asked dumbfounded, "Where are the horses?"

"Oh dear." Aziraphale muttered behind him, coming to his side and fiddling with his thumbs nervously. "Um well… humans don't really use horses anymore, as a mode of transport."

Crowley sighed in relief stepping closer to the vehicle in front of him, admiring it. "About time, I hate horses."

"I know."

Crowley clapped his hands in front of him, "So what is it? How do we use it?"

A look of concern passed over Aziraphale’s face, "Ah well, uh… It’s called a car and you- you usually drive it and take us places. But I don't think you should now, it takes a lot of practice to get a handle on the gears and things."

The demon frowned, stroking the hood of the vehicle before him, "I could probably miracle it to work." He grinned mischievously over at the angel.

"No, uh absolutely not." _Ah_ that’s the Aziraphale Crowley remembered, always quick to draw some boundaries. 

The angel paled and looked away, "Future-you would be very upset if you so much as gave her a scratch. She's your pride and joy."

Crowley had a hard time believing any material object would ever be that important to him. But who was he to doubt Aziraphale? He trusted the angel more than he did himself in this moment. After all, he principality wasn’t the one missing a thousand years worth of memories.

"Okay, then how do we get to this oyster place?"

Aziraphale frowned, "I guess we could call a cab."

"What's 'a cab'?" Crowley asked before he could help himself. A sudden feeling of self consciousness about the question washed over him.

He knew asking questions was annoying. Especially since these were all minor things that Aziraphale knew and had been living with for probably years. If he kept asking ‘what’s this? What’s that?’ they wouldn’t get anywhere. 

Even if this was a dream — which Crowley was still unsure if it was — then none of the answers would even matter. 

Besides, it wasn’t the angel’s job to keep him up to date and guide him through this world he had been thrown into. It was a miracle he was humoring his request for oysters, rather than kicking the burdensome demon to the curb like any righteous angel should. If Aziraphale had done that, then Crowley would have gone down to Hell and figure it all out that way. Take the pressure off of Aziraphale. Technically, he still could.

The angel frowned, glancing over at the demon cautiously, "Are you sure you want to leave the house, dear? We could open a bottle and talk over a drink."

While the idea sounded flattering, he had promised him oysters. He wanted Aziraphale happy, and he couldn't do that if they kept talking about what the angel was upset about initially. They needed to get out of the house.

"No, no it's fine. I'll stop asking questions. Let's call a cab," Crowley said in a hurry.

Aziraphale's frown deepened but he pulled out a phone — that looked a bit blockier than the one the demon had initially seen — and pressed some buttons. There was silence between the pair as Aziraphale seemed very concentrated on the piece of technology in front of him. 

"Sorry for the wait dear, you're usually the one to do this. I can never get it to work, but hah! One's on their way." Aziraphale grinned up at Crowley, looking very proud of himself.

Despite the angel’s cheery attitude, a feeling of uselessness took hold in the demon’s stomach. He glanced to the ground, kicking at a pebble. It wasn't fair to Aziraphale to drag him around and explain everything. Crowley supposedly drove the angel around now, and used the technology for him. He hated the feeling that he wasn't being the best he could be for him now, ruining the poor angel's day. 

"Sorry." He mumbled. He was definitely going to Hell after this. He’d rather be Hell’s burden than Aziraphale’s.

The angel blinked up at him with a look of confusion, "No dear, I'm just explaining why the car's late. You're not at fault."

Crowley huffed, not really taking the words seriously. He looked away as a million new questions he refused to ask surfaced. ‘What were those poles in the sky?’ ‘Is that a metal bird?’ ‘Is that cement? Haven’t seen that since Rome.’ ‘Are those other contraptions on the road also called ‘cars’?’

A few minutes of silence later, another — Crowley assumed ‘car’ — car rolled up to Aziraphale's house with a little block of light on top that spelled out 'taxi'. Crowley was _not_ going to ask why. But other than that, the vehicle was quite an impressive contraption, he’d admit. 

He tried not to stare so openly as the vehicle just kind of rolled around without any visible force pushing or pulling it.

When it came to a stop, the angel approached and opened the back door while gesturing for the demon to get inside. Crowley hesitated just a moment before ducking in, dumbfounded by the cushiony surface that almost entirely covered the interior. 

He sunk into the seat immediately, relishing the comfort while the angel closed the door on him. A note of fear clutched at Crowley's heart as Aziraphale walked away. _Was he just going to leave him here?_ He looked over at the human with a weak smile. Here he was, a demon with 500AD knowledge and Aziraphale was just going to drop him in 'a cab' and let him fend for himself?

Of course the angel didn’t. He just walked to the other side of the car and opened the other door, much to the demon’s relief.

"Where are you two fancy gents headed?" The human driver asked, pulling out of the angel's driveway once both doors were closed.

"The Old Sea Diner please," Aziraphale instructed, settling himself in the car. Pulling a strap over his shoulder and buckling it somewhere by his hip.

Crowley bit his lip, tempted to ask but didn’t on account of ‘not wanting to be a nuisance to the angel’.

Aziraphale glanced up and read his confused expression easily, "It's for safety dear. Put on the seat belt." he gestured over to the demon’s shoulder.

Crowley looked over and found a buckle, he tugged at it, mimicking what he’d seen the angel do. He must have done something wrong because he quickly became tangled in the straps. The human looked over warily and the demon hissed in his direction, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Relax dear," Aziraphale hushed, reaching over and gently freed him from the fabric straps. He was leaning over the middle portion of the car, a hand hovering just above the demon’s shoulder and he pulled the strap out and over his chest. 

Crowley tried not to openly stare or breath too hard as his heartbeat began to pick up. Aziraphale was careful not to touch him, but the proximity was driving the demon mad. The angel clicked the buckle down by his hip and looked up with a grin, "There you go."

Crowley crossed his arms, face red and heart racing. He tried to think of anything other than the way Aziraphale had practically leaned over him so much so that his body heat was burning him underneath all these layers. 

With a heavy sigh, he rested his head against the side of the car, feeling the vibrations as the world passed him by. He had always liked to go fast and it was strange to be able to do it so casually now. There were other cars out on the road, he saw, but none as beautiful as the car that rested in the angel’s driveway. _His_ car, Crowley thought proudly. It was a pity Aziraphale wouldn’t let him drive it.

They rolled up to another building, close to the cliffside. Aziraphale got out of the car first while Crowley wrestled with the belt again, trying to get it to _let go_. 

He resulted in using a miracle for it before Aziraphale could open the door for him, letting Crowley crawl out of the car. Then, with a brief word of thanks to the driver, Aziraphale headed up to the restaurant.

"Wait, don't you need to pay him?" the demon asked before he could help himself. He had been biting back questions the entire ride over and this one just happened to slip out. It just seemed a little out of character for the angel. Was Aziraphale _really_ not going to pay this man? What had happened to the angel he once knew?

Aziraphale chuckled, escorting the demon up to the building, "Money works differently now dear." he explained, waving to the hostess as the pair of them made their way to an empty table.

Crowley tried not to act like a complete imbecile and sat down stiffly, taking all his energy to not ask any more useless questions. 

Their table was positioned just perfectly. It was placed right next to a huge window that overlooked the ocean, partially covered with fog, and the sun that was just beginning to set behind them. If Crowley didn’t know any better, he would have found it romantic. 

Aziraphale was bathed in a golden light that made it increasingly harder for Crowley to not openly stare. Too often had his golden eyes betrayed his feelings and it would be absolutely detrimental to frighten the angel off now — _especially_ if this was reality. He wished for the glasses he had in Rome the first time they had eaten out. At least then he had a small barrier to hide behind. Now, his serpent eyes were on full display. And that made him nervous, it always did.

"The usual, sirs?" A waitress asked, heading over straight to Aziraphale.

The angel nodded eagerly, "And could you give us a bottle of whatever the chef suggests to go with our meal?"

The girl nodded, glancing over at the demon and paled slightly when their eyes met. _Ah, so that hasn’t changed either_ , he thought to himself. His eyes still scared humans.

He gulped, looking away to give the poor girl a reprieve. He hadn't had to worry about it during his time. All his acquaintances knew he was hellish and he had a reputation of such. It was a bit sobering to realize he was still seen as a monster based solely on face value — that would have been a compliment for any other demon, not him.

"I'll get those started for you," the waitress squeaked before scampering off. 

"What's wrong, lov-hm... dear?" Aziraphale asked, leaning across the table trying to meet the demon's gaze.

Crowley waved him off, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. "It's nothing." 

The angel didn't look convinced but backed off anyway. 

Crowley spared a glance at the humans around him, to try and get a better understanding of the time period. What mannerisms he should adopt and such. To his surprise, the other humans were not dressed like him and Aziraphale in the slightest. They had on more tight clothing, flowy blouses that drew the demon's eye, and most of the people were wearing dark clothes — at least the pants portions were generally black.

He hissed in annoyance looking down at his clothing in sudden realization, "This isn't fashionable!"

Across from him Aziraphale chuckled, eyes sparkling as he took in the demon's realization.

"Oi! Don't laugh, I based this off of _your_ clothes!" Crowley snapped, not really angry but enjoying the prospect of a banter between them. It had really been too long since they had a carefree conversation. He brought his fingers up to miracle more sensible clothes when the angel stopped him.

"Oh no dear." He said, truly laughing now, "You look so cute, I never get to see you all posh like this. At least let me get a picture."

The demon's face flushed at the compliment. Had the angel just called him _cute_? "Well, be quick about it." He grumbled.

The angel was nearly doubled over with laughter, and Crowley felt a sense of pride for giving the angel this much joy, even if he did have to look completely ridiculous. Aziraphale fumbled for his phone, pressing a few buttons as he tried to stop laughing. "Here we are, love," he said, aiming the object in Crowley's direction.

 _Love_? There was a bright flash and the angel grinned as the picture was taken. Crowley sat perfectly still. _Love._ That certainly wasn't something he had ever imagined the angel calling him. In fact, Aziraphale never had any terms of endearment for him, besides 'dear' which he used for everyone. Yet... Aziraphale had looked so happy, and the word just rolled off his tongue. _Love_. Maybe the future was different? Maybe that word had a different meaning? 

Crowley felt the blood rush out of his head. That had to be it, it had to be. Aziraphale would never...

He desperately tried to keep himself together as he miracled a new set of clothes that blended into humans a bit more. He donned a pair of tight dark pants and a dark purple flowy blouse where the neck line dipped down very low.

"Ah, that looks like more your style." Aziraphale approved, nodding in the demon's direction but still grinning at the picture on his phone. He squinted a little bit, "Oops dear, I should have warned you about the flash. You look positively shocked in this one." 

The flash was definitely _not_ why he looked shocked in the picture.

_Love._

Crowley clenched his fists by his side. _Don’t ask, don't ask, don't ask,_ he chanted in his head. As much as he wanted clarification he didn’t want to make things worse between them. If he brought it up, Aziraphale might apologize or shut down like he did with the kiss, or with the hand in his arm earlier. Yet, that didn't stop the question from thundering in his head. _Did Aziraphale love him back_? 

"Oh look! Our food is here." Aziraphale cheered, smiling up at the waitress with the bottle of wine and plate stocked full of oysters.

Crowley tried to smile back but he felt more like crying than anything else. Everything today was overwhelming, it seemed like a dream. It was too good to be true. First the kiss, all the endearments and lingering touches, it was like something from his fantasies. This couldn’t be real life.

On autopilot, Crowley poured the wine while Aziraphale tucked into the plate. The demon gulped the alcohol down, enjoying the soothing burn as it spilled down his throat. 

Meanwhile, Aziraphale started to eat, slurping and scooping at the oysters with the same vigor and passion as the first time. Crowley tried to relax into his seat and enjoyed the company as he normally did. 

He let his mind go numb, trying not to think too hard about anything and just being in the moment. Enjoying this fantasy and not do anything to wake himself up. He could just sit here and stare as the light from the sun glowed behind the angel making Aziraphale look absolutely beatific on this lovely evening.

If this was real — Crowley highly doubted that it was — hopefully Aziraphale would be kind enough to lead Crowley to his own home so he could have a moment to himself and regroup. Then he could head down to Hell and see if they could catch him up on the thousand and a half years he missed. Maybe check on the assignments he needed to get done, then head back to Aziraphale to thank him for helping him out today. Maybe find a bakery to get him some treats? The angel liked baked goods still, right?

If this wasn’t real... then none of this really mattered. He should just enjoy it.

Aziraphale moaned around a particular good bit of oysters, "Oh dear you simply must try one."

Crowley grimaced, remembering all too well the first time he had tried an oyster a few centuries ago, "Nah."

"Please dear? It really is delicious, you'll like it, I promise."

"You promised last time," The demon huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, "and I didn't like it."

Aziraphale blinked up at Crowley, as if trying to remember what he was referencing. Then a strange look came across the angel's face and Crowley immediately became wary, "Well, you eat oysters all the time, _now_."

The demon cocked an eyebrow. He found it hard to believe ever developing a taste for the slimy creatures, the first time was enough for him. He had vowed to never eat an oyster again. "Really?"

"Yes! You rather liked them if I recall correctly." Aziraphale nodded emphatically.

Crowley leaned across the table, glaring into the angel's blue eyes, the dying light from behind him made them shine ever so brightly. "Liar."

Aziraphale blushed prettily and sputtered, "N- no. You do! Try it." He held out the meat of the oyster on a tiny fork, almost pressing it into the demon's lips.

"Angel," Crowley muttered darkly, "If I don't like whatever you're about to put in my mouth, I'm drinking the rest of this wine and you aren't getting a drop."'

Aziraphale hesitated and the demon smirked at him. With a defeated sigh, he let the oyster fork clatter back down to the plate, "I thought that would work."

"Ha!" Crowley laughed, "I may be a thousand and some-odd years younger, but I know where I stand with oysters."

"Ugh. You're so stubborn." Aziraphale rolled his eyes, clearly enjoying the banter. "It was two thousand years ago and it was _one_ bad oyster. How can you hold a grudge still?"

Crowley held up a finger, "For _me_ , it's only been a few centuries and it's not just the taste but the texture." He gagged, "it's disgusting. I don't know how you deal with it."

Aziraphale sighed, slurping up another oyster. "Silly old demon set in his ways, you should try and keep an open mind my dear. Humans are ever so creative with their cuisine."

The demon laughed shortly. He thought back to yesterday — _his_ yesterday — where Aziraphale had refused to work with him on a sort of arrangement. The phrases 'set in his ways' and 'keep an open mind' weren't ones he would apply to himself. "You're one to talk." he mumbled.

The angel hummed a questioning note around another oyster.

"Never mind." Crowley said quickly. This Aziraphale was obviously different. This angel wasn't afraid to be seen with him in public, this angel hadn't mentioned Heaven once since Crowley had been awake. He had even kissed him earlier — granted it was the privacy of his home but _still_ — wasn’t the angel worried that someone above could have seen?

"What's wrong dear?" Aziraphale asked, dabbing his mouth with a napkin.

"It's nothing." Crowley shifted, leaning back further into the chair.

The angel sighed, signaling to the waitress that he was done with his food, "Crowley, it's okay to not be okay. This all must be very jarring for you and it's okay to have questions. I'll answer them, I promise."

"That isn't your _job_ angel," Crowley groaned, "You shouldn't have to take care of me like this."

Aziraphale frowned, looking like he very much wanted to disagree, which surprised the demon. Crowley had half expected the angel to suddenly realize that he was helping the Serpent of Eden now that he explicitly said it. Then Aziraphale would freak out about his bosses finding out, like he always did. 

Aziraphale's gaze dropped down to his lap where he fiddled with a ring Crowley did not recognize.

"Shall we go?" Crowley asked, knowing if they stayed longer they would start discussing things that would be better hashed out in private.

The angel nodded, moving to stand. The waitress came by with a black tablet thing, putting it in front of Crowley who just stared at it blankly. 

"Ah dear, I've got this." Aziraphale quickly corrected, gesturing for the tablet to be brought to him.

Crowley frowned, figuring this must be the new 'money' thing. Aziraphale swiped and pressed a few things on the object as the demon tried to wait patiently, having an itching feeling that he should be doing something. 

The angel finished up and soon after the two of them stepped outside where a car was waiting for them. 

They were quiet the entire way home, Crowley lost in his thoughts and Aziraphale in his.

When they finally rolled up to Aziraphale's house the demon finally got up the nerve to ask, "Shouldn't you take me to where I live?"

The angel frowned, "Uh… my dear, I think it's best if you stay with me for now. Not having memories of the last thousand plus years can be dangerous."

Crowley sighed, knowing Aziraphale was right but he was going to miss the little bit of privacy he craved. If this was real, he wanted to digest everything that had happened, come to terms with it all. 

His worst fear was going to sleep and waking up to this all being a dream. Waking up and Aziraphale was still mad at him over some silly argument. A world where he didn't touch him or call him 'love' but kept his distance. 

But... if this _was_ all real, he didn’t know how he would react waking up and seeing these walls, this angel, this home. He just might die of happiness.

"Would you like another drink dear?" Aziraphale asked, already moving to the kitchen to open a bottle, "I could certainly use a glass or three." 

Crowley laughed and settled himself down on a couch. He could feel a headache coming along which was unusual. He didn’t think he had drank that much to already be getting a hangover. There was also a creeping sense of exhaustion he had been fighting all throughout dinner, but he knew that he _couldn’t_ go to sleep. He couldn’t wake up from this dream. He wanted to stay just a little bit longer. 

Aziraphale emerged from the kitchen with a bottle and two glasses, "I assumed the answer was yes."

The demon nodded drowsily, letting the angel pour his cup. 

"Are you feeling okay, dear?" the angel asked for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

Crowley hissed, "Stop asking that angel, of course I'm fine." he tasted the wine tentatively, "just a bit tired is all."

Aziraphale nodded and settled into the armchair across the way, "Maybe you should sleep then. We don't have to talk tonight. I'm afraid a thousand and a half years of history is a bit hard to explain."

Crowley sighed and sipped more at his wine, enjoying the flavor immensely. It was much better than his time's wine. 

"You don't have to explain it _all_. Just the good bits." Crowley said when what he really wanted to ask was: _When did things change between us? I know I have been in love with you for a few millennia, have you finally caught on?_

Aziraphale gulped down at his own wine, "I'm afraid that conversation will be better suited when you're not about to pass out on the couch."

"You're no fun angel," Crowley whined, feeling the headache spreading and his eyelids getting heavy. 

_No_. He forced his eyes open. He couldn’t sleep.

The angel sighed, setting down his glass on the coffee table before him and standing. "Come on dear, to bed with you. I hadn't realized you were this tired." 

The demon hadn't realized his eyes were closed until he felt warm hands take his glass of wine from him. He blinked them open as those same warm arms scooped under him and lifted him easily against the angel's chest. Was Aziraphale _carrying_ him? Crowley thought belatedly, snuggling closer to that warmth. Wait, he shouldn't be doing this. 

"No ‘zira…" the name was too hard to complete, "I sleep on the couch… Your house... I can't take the bed." This may be all a figment of his imagination, but he still had manners.

Aziraphale continued to walk to the bedroom, hesitating a second before responding, "I don't sleep much anyways dear. You can have the bed."

The serpent squirmed a bit in retaliation but didn't put up much of a fight as Aziraphale settled him under the covers. His head was throbbing now, "Ow." he groaned.

"What's wrong?" Aziraphale hands stilled from where he was lifting the sheets to tuck him in.

"M' head." Crowley mumbled, wincing. "Headache."

The angel tutted softly and warm fingers found their way to the demon's temples, massaging them gently. "I'm sorry love."

There was that word again. _Love_. Crowley belatedly recognized, a light blush tainting his cheeks. He liked that word, he thought drowsily, he liked when Aziraphale called him that. 

There was the faint feeling of a miracle being performed and suddenly Crowley had an even stronger urge to sleep. His headache subsided slightly. 

"G'night angel." He mumbled as he let unconsciousness take over.

** 11 years ago (2019) **

**** **"You really meant it?" Crowley asked out of the blue. The two were lounging about the bookshop. Crowley had a cup of tea in hand about to settle down in his normal perch. Aziraphale had been entranced in one of the new books Adam had gifted him.**

**The angel perked up, taking off the phony glasses to look at the demon curiously, "Meant what?"**

**"You love me?" Those three words hung in the stale bookshop air heavily.**

**Aziraphale smiled gently, a look of absolute adoration crossing his face, "Of course, I do."**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we get just a taste of the sickfic tag, next chapter we’ll definitely be getting more of it but the plot is rolling now! The pacing speeds up just a tad from here on out so don’t think this is the same format for the rest of the story


	4. Angel's Don't Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves! Here with another chapter for you as promised. There’s a few little jokes in here (I think they’re funny) but it’s mainly just a lot of Crowley being confused — as he should be.
> 
> I changed the overall summary (made it shorter) but that’s about it.
> 
> Again… I just want to remind everyone that the flashbacks do not need to be read in order to gain an understanding of the story. They were just little add ons I did at the end and aren’t nearly as edited or thought out.
> 
> Enjoy! 

** 11 years ago (2019) **

**** **“Hey angel.”**

**“Crowley?” Aziraphale lodged the phone between his shoulder and ear as he hefted a stack of books onto his desk.**

**There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line, “I’m going to take some time off.”**

**“Off?” Aziraphale’s voice rose in pitch slightly, his hands tensing from where they clutched the tomes. _What was that supposed to mean?_**

**“Yeah...” The demon said, “I haven’t really slept since the Apocalypse — it’s been a month or two. And I’m really tired, haven’t had a proper rest since oh… the nineteenth century? Anyway, I’m going to need some time. Probably a few months.”**

**_Months?_ Oh dear. “Oh... okay.”**

**“Will you be okay?” Crowley’s voice was soft through the phone.**

**Aziraphale hesitated, “Y- yes of course! Don’t worry about me my dear,” he hurried to answer. “Uh- um… I guess I should say: sleep well?”**

**Was this really it? Was Crowley really just going to go to sleep for months and leave him all on his lonesome? Was the demon already sick of him? They had been spending a lot of time together lately. Was this just a polite way of saying goodbye? That they were through?**

**“Wake me if you need anything,” Crowley grunted and there was a rustling noise, “Good night angel.”**

**Aziraphale set the phone down and stared at it for a second, chewing on his lip nervously. With a silent miracle on his breath, he whispered, “Dream of whatever you like best.” into the open air of the bookshop.**

**Now that he thought about it, he had caught the serpent dozing a few times in the shop. That was all it was then. Crowley just liked to sleep. Aziraphale couldn’t work himself up into a frenzy every time the demon wasn’t around.**

**Right.**

**Back to the books.**

The demon woke to the sun in his eyes as the black-out curtains were never closed from when he first opened them. He stretched a bit as the events of yesterday flooded back to him. Was everything real? Was he really this lucky to be thousand and some years in the future with an angel whocalled him _love_? 

Aziraphale had called him that again at the end of the night, hadn't he? Crowley struggled to recall as he was far too out of it last night to know for sure.

He sat up, rubbing his head at the phantom pain of the headache. The covers around him were crisp and untouched except for where the demon lay. He quickly got out of them, trying his best to return them to the pristine state the angel probably preferred. 

This was all real. This was reality, not a dream. _Not a dream_.

When he was satisfied with the covers, he ventured out of the room, trying to remember where everything was. He should probably go down to Hell today and make sure he was caught up on assignments. He was bound to get company if he delayed any longer.

Yawning as he entered the living room, he was surprised to see the angel snoozing quietly on the couch. There was a tartan throw blanket strewn over him, barely able to cover his entire corporation. His blond curls were smushed into a pillow — that looked far too scratchy to be comfortable — and he was snoring softly, looking quite peaceful.

The demon shook his head, _that bastard_. 

Of course the angel had lied about not sleeping, and Crowley had just gone and taken up his bed! The nerve! 

With a frustrated sigh, he headed over to the kitchen. Hopefully Aziraphale could show him to his house today so he could stay out of the angel's hair and his house would be back to just his again. It must be awful sharing it with a demon these past few weeks, even if Crowley was sleeping for a majority of it.

Absently, he pulled out the kettle from the cupboard and began to fill it with water. Humming a nonsensical tune he plugged it in and brought down Aziraphale's favorite tea and mug so he could- 

_Wait_. 

Crowley froze where he stood the tea and mug shaking in his hands. _How did he know how to do this?_ He glanced over to where he had just pulled the kettle from having no recollection of ever being in this kitchen before. Hell, he didn't even know what a 'plug-in' was and he just _did it_. 

_How did he know this was Aziraphale's favorite mug and tea?_

Quickly he set them down and backed away before he could drop them. _What was happening?_ Soon the kettle beeped that it was done and Crowley felt his body jerk forward as he watched himself pour the water into the mug on autopilot. _How was he doing this?_

He finished making the tea with little to no brain power and was left just staring at it in awe. 

"Crowley dear?" the angel called drowsily, the sound of fabric rustling being heard as Aziraphale made his way towards the kitchen.

The demon hummed a response, still staring at the kettle in shock. He didn't even recognize the contraption and yet his body knew how to use it and where it was kept. 

"Aziraphale?" He called weakly.

"Yes?" The angel stumbled drowsily into the kitchen, looking up at the demon with a fond smile.

Crowley didn’t have time to unpack _that_ open-look-of-affection while he was too busy staring at a piping hot cup of tea he had _apparently_ just made. 

"How did I know how to do this?" he gestured to the objects in question.

Aziraphale blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he tried to understand what the demon was getting at, "Oh. Huh..." the angel mumbled, stumped. "Maybe you remembered subconsciously?"

Crowley shook his head. There was no way he made tea so frequently at Aziraphale’s place for it to just be a subconscious thought. Crowley didn’t even like tea! It didn’t make sense. 

Picking up the mug, he handed it to Aziraphale, "Anyway, I made it for you."

The angel beamed at the demon, and Crowley felt a blush rise to his cheeks, "Aw thank you dear." 

"Shut up." The demon hissed, moving past him to sit down at the kitchen table.

Aziraphale sighed happily as he sipped at the tea, "You always make it just perfect, lo- eh- hm... dear." he fumbled on the endearment with a blush.

Crowley ignored the angel's words. "You lied to me."

"How so?" The angel asked, quirking an eyebrow while he sipped the tea.

"You _do_ sleep."

The angel choked, "Ah n-no that was just a quick little nap. Resting my eyes from all the reading. Yes... That's all."

Crowley didn’t look convinced, "You're a terrible liar, Aziraphale."

The angel had the nerve to look offended, scoffing.

"You can't just let me sleep in your bed when you need sleep to," the demon muttered, glaring at the angel across from him, "If you’ve been doing that for the past weeks, I'm going to be pissed."

"It's nothing. Really dear. I don't sleep as much as you. It's a rather recent habit." The angel blushed prettily.

Crowley threw his hands up in the air growing more frustrated, "But this is _your_ house, angel! You should be able to do what you please without a demon around, taking up space. Stealing your bed."

Aziraphale hesitated, "I don't mind dear. I really don't."

"Well you should." Crowley hissed, prepared to leave the argument at that. 

How was Aziraphale so cool about all of this? Why did he think he was an expert on the demon’s sleeping habits? The angel hadn’t had any interest before. There was definitely something Aziraphale wasn’t telling him, and it was driving Crowley a little crazy.

Aziraphale didn’t seem to want to let the conversation go, "Maybe I could miracle up another bedroom, or a futon? Until you get your memories back."

Crowley shook his head, "Don't bother. I know Heaven tracks that kind of thing, might look suspicious." Aziraphale gulped audibly. _Ah,_ there was that fear Crowley was used to, it must have finally crossed the angel’s mind to think of Heaven’s view in all of this. 

"Besides,” he continued, “I should probably be getting to know _my_ place. Let you get back to your work and things. I should check in on Hell and see if there's any assignments I need-"

"No!" Aziraphale yelped, leaning forward and snatching the demon's wrist as if he was about to leave right that very moment. "You can't go." the angel voice was high and panicked, his eyes were wide with undeniable fear.

Crowley's eyes widened at the sudden movement and the tight grip now on his wrist. " _What_?"

The angel had a wild look in his eyes, "You _can't_ go to Hell."

The demon was at a loss for words. He had never recalled the angel ever asking him to do anything of this sort before or ever looking this scared. 

"But… that's my job." He replied weakly, growing more and more confused. Was he missing something? Of course he was missing a ton of memories, but going as far as to ignore his bosses? This was getting quite ridiculous.

Aziraphale shook his head, "I think it's time that I explained our recent history, but you need to _promise_ me that you won't go back to Hell."

Crowley gulped, he trusted the angel more than he probably should given how little he remembered. Aziraphale was an angel, on the opposing side. It would be easy for him to lie and subdue him here. But he wouldn’t do that... right? 

Sure he didn't remember the past thousand and some years and yet still so much between them had changed. He hoped it had all been for the better, but it could have just as easily have been for worse. 

_No_. Aziraphale wouldn’t betray him like that. The angel had kissed him and called him ‘love’, so that had to mean something. It had to. 

The demon stared at the angel whose eyes were panicky and looked like he was about to cry — that wouldn't do. He couldn't have the angel crying anymore. 

"Fine, fine. I promise." He said, praying to Someone that he wouldn’t regret it.

Aziraphale sighed in relief, letting go of the demon's wrist and relaxing back into the chair, "Thank you."

"But there better be a good explanation. My side doesn't send rude notes, they're rather… physical with their messages," the demon grumbled, "Wouldn't do to have you caught up in that mess."

"Ah," Aziraphale grimaced slightly, "Things with Heaven and Hell have been complicated lately."

"Complicated how?" Crowley asked, growing skeptical. Heaven and Hell had stayed the same ever since the Fall and that was before time had even existed. What happened in the next thousand years that could have possibly changed that?

Aziraphale pushed his tea to the side unfinished, "Perhaps I should start at the beginning."

_Yes please_ , Crowley gestured for him to continue, he had grown tired of not knowing what was going on.

"So your last memories are our argument in 500AD? About The Arrangement?" Aziraphale clarified, obviously trying to stall all this information.

"Yes, it was damp."

"Right, it was. Anyway, I agreed to that arrangement a few decades later and we continued using it for the past thousand plus years. We would- er, flip a coin and see who would do which assignment and such. We had a pretty bad break once where you decided to sleep for a century after we… well… disagreed about something." Aziraphale winced at the memory, "I'll spare you the details. It wasn’t pleasant for either of us."

Crowley was obviously curious but wasn’t totally invested in their arguments. He wanted to know about the good times. How had they gotten _here_? When was their first kiss? How many lunch dates had they been on? What sights had they seen? You know… the important stuff.

"Then sometime around the year two thousand and eight-"

"Woah." The demon interrupted. "We're skipping right to _then_? That's more than a thousand years ahead of where I am! Was there nothing significant going that entire time?" He asked a bit disappointed Aziraphale was skimping on the details. He wanted to know everything that happened between them. Every drunk conversation, each time they had just so happened across each other, the favors they had done for each other. The little things were important too, weren’t they?

"Of course there was significant stuff going on." Aziraphale explained, "But it was much more similar to how we had been carrying on… what is it for you...? The past four thousand years."

"Oh." Crowley deflated, that didn't sound fun. Another thousand and some years of pining then.

Aziraphale tried to amend his statement, seeing the sad look on Crowley's expression, "But we had The Arrangement! And we saw each other relatively more often as the years progressed." There was no reaction on his demon counterpart, so the angel sighed, "Anyway two thousand and eight was when you stumbled into my bookshop-"

"You had a bookshop?" See! _This_ was the stuff he wanted to hear. How did he get the bookshop? Where was it? Was it successful?

The angel smiled as he remembered that old building with fond memories, "Yes, before moving here I had a bookshop. I loved that place dearly."

"What happened to it?" Crowley asked, wanting to know more, but trying to temper his questions a bit. He didn’t want to overwhelm the angel but also hadn't imagined him settling down anywhere. In the years he had known him, Aziraphale was always off looking for the next tastiest thing. Did he finally try it all?

"Oh well." The angel looked confused for a second. "I suppose it burned down. Then… didn't? It was never really quite the same after that."

"Sounds complicated." Crowley grumbled under his breath.

"We’re getting off track dear,... where was I? Oh, you came to my shop with news of Armageddon."

" _Armageddon?!_ " Crowley cried out. How was that even possible? Armageddon was the end of days, a giant war where Heaven or Hell would win and Earth would be destroyed.

"Yes." Aziraphale nodded slowly, "You had just delivered the antichrist. Well, not _delivered_. Just… handed it over to — who you thought — was some politician's family."

"Wait, wait,” Crowley shook his head. That couldn’t be right, “then why is everything still here? Shouldn't earth be destroyed? If it was two thousand and eight and it's twenty thirty _now_... The world should have ended over a decade ago!"

Aziraphale nodded, "You see, you weren't so fond of having the world end and ultimately, neither was I.” he sighed, “So we hatched a plot to stop it." 

Crowley stared dumbfounded. 

Aziraphale continued, "It all ended up falling apart at the very last minute though. Turned out it was the wrong boy and the Antichrist was actually another boy raised by a completely normal British family — such a sweet kid.” the angel wiggled happily at that, “We came by at the end to well… to kill him. But ended up just offering moral support. He really did all the work stopping the end from happening. Though, _we_ rightfully did piss off Heaven and Hell."

"Wait... Back up." Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to understand, "We had a plan... that didn't work."

"Yes."

"And we showed up anyway?"

"Well, we didn't want the world to end. Our respective sides found out we were working together and it had gotten pretty ugly. I got discorporated." Aziraphale said matter-of-factly. "Things weren't going to end well for us. It was our last hope."

Crowley sighed deeply, "So this kid stopped Armageddon all on his own. And what? Heaven and Hell just gave up and walked away?"

The angel frowned, "Of course not. There was this whole thing with his father and then we got captured the next day to be destroyed. But we didn't! There was a prophecy," Aziraphale frowned, "I should have mentioned that earlier."

"It doesn’t matter, just continue." Crowley muttered, trying his hardest to wrap his mind around… Armageddon being _canceled_.

Aziraphale smiled shyly, "The main thing is that Heaven and Hell believe us to be indestructible. In Heaven they tried to burn me with hellfire and in Hell they tried to bathe you in holy water. But! Oh this is the good part, my dear — we were so clever. We switched corporations to fool them and they got so scared that they didn't bother us for a decade. Then..." the angel winced, "Then they showed up a few weeks ago."

"Oh." Crowley said, things were starting to piece together. For instance, why he couldn't go back to Hell. What wasn’t making sense though, was _everything else_.

Aziraphale nodded, "Yes, Gabriel and Beezelbub came after us and tried to get both our memories wiped so we would surrender earth and join them in restarting Armageddon. But, you insisted on taking the full dose and passed out, waking up a few weeks later… like this." he looked down at his lap, once again playing with the silver ring there.

Crowley frowned. If what Aziraphale was saying was true — and Crowley _did_ believe him — they were in a bit of a tight situation. He didn’t believe Heaven and Hell would surrender quite so easily so it was believable that they would come for them later and try to get things back on track. 

However — probably more importantly — none of what Aziraphale said explained yesterday's kiss or this new openness about him. They were leagues closer now than they were before and Crowley had a feeling that Aziraphale wasn't telling him something, something important. 

He considered asking about it, questioning why the angel had kissed him when he first woke up or the small endearments and touches that Crowley was not used to. But he thought better of it. Given Aziraphale's response to most things, he would probably shut down and push the demon even further away.

"So that's it then." Crowley finally muttered, leaning back in his chair.

"Questions?" Aziraphale asked, looking a little uncomfortable.

The demon laughed. He had so many questions but the one that was most prevalent, "When will I get my memories back?"

The angel gave a dejected sigh, "I'm not sure. Beezlebub and Gabriel were convinced the spell would work. We'd be younger and still loyal to them. But I don't think they counted on us trying to cheat the system."

Crowley smirked, "From what you're telling me, that's what we've been doing this entire time."

Aziraphale blushed and smiled up at the demon, "I suppose we have. Can't say it's been easy." He sighed, "But we always make it through in the end."

"I'm glad," Crowley said softly, and genuinely meant it. 

He looked over at the angel who was still tinted pink and gorgeous. The way he was leaning just slightly over the table, hands fidgeting restlessly, while his eyes were so intent on the demon. There was a spark of desperation within those blue eyes that unnerved Crowley. He couldn’t understand why. Why was Aziraphale so set on keeping him here? Why had he looked like he was about to fall apart when Crowley had awoken yesterday? Why was the angel keeping things from him?

It didn’t matter. Of course it didn’t, but that didn’t stem the demon’s curiosity. He turned away from Aziraphale and around the rest of the room, maybe there would be clues around the house? Not likely, but a demon could hope. 

Aziraphale sipped at his tea stiffly, eyes trained on him. Crowley did his best to ignore it in favor of taking stock of the angel’s ‘Oscar Wilde’ collection — whoever _that_ was — until his vision started to swim. _That wasn’t normal._ Bookshelves weren’t supposed to look _wavy_. 

Then the earth tilted and he snapped his head back to the angel in alarm, clinging onto the table to stay upright. _What was going on?_

"Are- are you okay dear?" Aziraphale asked, his voice filled with concern, "You've gone very pale."

Crowley winced at the noise as dizziness overcame him. Was Aziraphale not feeling how the earth was moving? Why did Crowley feel sick all of the sudden? Demon's weren't supposed to feel sick, they were immortal. 

There was the awful ancient feeling of bile rising in his throat and he had no idea what from. He hadn't eaten anything since he woke up. There was the alcohol from last night, but that couldn’t possibly cause _this._

He threw himself down the hall, hand clamped over his mouth as another wave of nausea hit him. He wasn't going to throw up on Aziraphale's floor, _he wasn't._

Stumbling into the bathroom — he had no idea how he knew where the bathroom even was — he collapsed in front of the toilet, perching his head over the unused toilet bowl.

"Dear?" Aziraphale called after him, hurried footsteps pounding in the demon’s ears.

"'m fine." Crowley grumbled and immediately spilled the contents of his stomach into the bowl.

Crowley had only thrown up twice in his four thousand year history that he could remember. Both were from too much alcohol and he hated the experience both times. It was unpleasant and so very painfully unnecessary in the life of a demon. He rather just expel the alcohol from his system the good ol fashioned miracle way. 

Whatever was happening to his body now, was unfortunately _not_ something he could miracle away.

He felt hands in his hair, pulling it out of his face as he retched into the toilet bowl some more. Oh this was disgusting but why wouldn't the room stop spinning? He squeezed his eyes shut as he fended off another wave of nausea. Aziraphale cooed into his ear comforting words and there was a hand on his back rubbing warmth and comfort into his bones. 

He felt like crying.

"A-angel." He whispered, keeping his eyes closed. He rather not see the physical evidence of his illness.

The strands of his hair were being combed through and braided so they would stay out of his face, "I'm here," Aziraphale answered softly.

"What's happening?" the demon blurted, his body sagging in exhaustion.

The angel sighed and tied off the rest of Crowley's hair with a tie he just so happened to have, "Well it seems to me that you were throwing up, dear."

Crowley groaned, which sounded more like a whimper, "I know _that_. But why? Demons don't get sick."

There were soothing hands massaging at the nape of the demon’s neck, "I don't know dear. It could be a side effect of the memory loss."

Crowley sighed, feeling himself being pulled back against the angel's body. Despite how disgusting he felt on the inside, it was absolute heaven to be wrapped up in Aziraphale's arms. 

"We should get you back into bed.” Aziraphale suggested lightly, “Are you finished expelling liquid from your stomach dear?"

"Just say vomit," Crowley muttered, "And I feel better now. No need for bed rest."

Aziraphale tutted, "I would feel much more comfortable if you stayed in bed for a few hours at least. Make sure we don't have any real issues."

"We have a lot of real issues," the demon grumbled, fatigue kicking in as he leaned into the angel’s warmth. "For one, I don't remember the past thousand and some years!"

The angel chuckled, helping a reluctant Crowley to his feet. The two walked slowly back to the bedroom, Crowley wincing with every step. His senses seemed to be a bit on overdrive at the moment. Even the dimmest of lights or sounds seemed to overwhelm him. 

Aziraphale guided him to bed and pulled the black-out curtains over the window so all light was banished from the room. He walked back over to the demon, helping him under the covers. 

Another wave of dizziness passed over Crowley, not quite as intense as the ones before; but he still held his breath, refusing to throw up in the angel's bed. 

After a moment, the feeling passed and he breathed out in relief. Maybe rest was a good idea.

"Get some sleep my dear." Aziraphale whispered, patting the demon's shoulder, while miracling a waste bucket by the side of the bed... just in case.

Crowley nodded sluggishly. The room was still spinning and the bed seemed to be rocking even though Aziraphale was standing at the door nowhere near him. The nausea was subsiding but Crowley could still feel bile at the back of his throat. 

Nothing was making sense. Demon’s don’t get sick, and yet here he was.

Aziraphale stepped through the threshold of the doorway and turned to look back at Crowley, “Dream of whatever you like best,” the words fluttered through the air, barely a whisper; but before he knew it, his eyelids closed and his mind wandered to reliving what it had felt like to kiss Aziraphale.

** 10 years ago (2020) **

**Arms wrapped around the angels middle as he went up to change the record spinning on his old sousaphone. A chin rested on his shoulder as Crowley smiled up at him. "Hi angel."**

**"Hi dear." Aziraphale stiffened a little bit before relaxing into the demon's arms, "Sleep well?"**

**Crowley hummed noncommittally and rubbed his cheek into the angel's shoulder.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is a bit redundant or if it seems like I’m just retelling the actual show. I tried to make it more interesting with Crowley’s reactions to it all but idk. Thank you all for the amazing comments and kudos! <3 <3 < 3 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed! Nxt chapter will be a little shorter but it’s also the halfway mark through the story!!! It’s actually where a lot of your guys’ predictions start coming true. Anyway, I hope you guys stick around <3


	5. Into the Garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats everyone!!! This is the half-way mark in this story!!! It’s not nearly as long as the other chapters however it is packed with a lot of stuff and I think you all will like it <3

** 6 years ago (2024)  **

**** **"Oh darling it's beautiful!" Aziraphale gushed, stepping out into their yard. All of Crowley's pride and joys bloomed here, making a perfect little eden for them.**

**"I've hidden the statues all over the place so you can't see them from inside. That way when people come over they won't be asking questions." Crowley winked.**

**The angel beamed back at him, "You are such a dear. You must show me all the spots!"**

**Crowley nodded and led the angel down the path he had created, "How's the office coming along? All your books fit?"**

**"Oh yes." Aziraphale nodded, picking his way gracefully on the steps, "I just opened the last box, and things are coming about swimmingly."**

**"I'm glad," the demon said, ducking behind an alcove and in front of the giant eagle statue. Aziraphale followed, cooing over the statue, peppering the demon's face with kisses as they reminisced on the time Crowley had saved the angel's dear books.**

Aziraphale seemed determined to keep the demon in his sight at all times today. After being shut down earlier when Crowley asked to be taken to _his_ home — now that he knew the whole ‘backstory’ — Aziraphale was as tense as ever. The angel was constantly fidgeting, as if Crowley was about to bolt at any second — which he _wasn’t_. He told the angel so many times. 

For instance, when Crowley wandered into the bathroom again to see the angel had a bathtub. Aziraphale was there. 

The demon then asked some questions about plumbing, and if the angel needed help cleaning up his mess from yesterday. Aziraphale engaged in conversation, but was mainly just hovering, eyebrows knit in concern.

When Crowley opened all the doors in the house and saw Aizraphale had a massive library in the back — that was definitely bigger on the inside — Crowley scanned the titles and… Aziraphale was there. 

The demon politely asked about certain books and if these were the same tomes from his bookshop all those years ago. A fond smile appeared on the angel’s face and they talked for a bit before the conversation was lulled to silence, leaving them just staring at each other.

When Crowley had curled up in a little patch of sunlight on the carpet for a quick snooze only to awaken to Aziraphale staring at him over the pages of a book. Crowley sighed. 

_So that’s how it was going to be_. Maybe Aziraphale would give him more space out in the garden? Out in the open air? 

When Aziraphale followed him out, Crowley tried his best to ignore him. The plot of land the angel owned was pretty decently sized and the vegetation was very well taken care of. It reminded him a little of Eden, how perfect everything was. There was even an apple tree sapling in the corner, Crowley spied. 

He smirked a little at that — it was a little on the nose, even for the angel — and turned to look at the ivy draped over the wall that enclosed the yard. He traced each leaf admiringly and followed it, wondering where it went. Aziraphale trailing behind him as if determined to keep the demon in his sights at all times. 

As he walked there was a large object obscured by shrubbery that made the demon stop. Was that a statue? 

Moving a little closer, he realized that it was. It was an eagle shaped statue that made his mind reel with deja vu. Why was this important?

Aziraphale stepped up beside Crowley, looking up at the bird.

He gave up trying to ignore Aziraphale. It was going to be no fun exploring a garden if a principality was just going to hover over his shoulder the entire time.

"What is it?" Crowley asked, curiosity peaking. If the angel was going to stand there, he was going to answer some questions.

Aziraphale sighed and fidgeted with his hands in front of his waist coat, "From a church back in 1941, it got blown up in the Blitz."

From the way he was talking, Crowley knew he was leaving something out. He also didn’t know what the ‘blitz’ was but it didn’t sound pleasant. _Aw well_ , the demon conceded, _I guess there won’t be any straight answers today_. He knew better than to press the poor angel for explanations. If Aziraphale didn't want to tell him something… fine.

Crowley hummed in response and turned, moving back towards the house. Maybe he could get some solace from the angel's watchful gaze inside? In the kitchen maybe? He hadn’t explored much in there today and there were all those funky contraptions he could investigate.

"Wait, Crowley." Aziraphale followed, picking his way clumsily through the bushes.

Crowley paused under a particularly sprucy looking pear tree. Turning to look over his shoulder as the blushing angel hurried to catch up. This was the first time today that the angel had initiated conversation.

"None of this… bothers you?" Aziraphale asked, looking at the demon, concern clear in his eyes. "Everything I told you yesterday? You're okay?"

Crowley sighed heavily. To be truthful, he wasn't sure what to believe anymore. He was way out of his depth here and the only being he trusted more than himself was the angel. Aiziraphale, who had graciously accepted the demon into his home, let him sleep in his bed, let him drink his wine, and let him wander his garden. 

But it wasn’t just that. He had foolishly fallen in love with the poor sod when they met in Eden all those years ago and he had kept falling ever since. He doubted his feelings had done anything but grow exponentially throughout the years he was missing. Even with his current memories, he knew exactly what he was willing to risk to appease the angel — which was nearly everything.

"I'm fine Aziraphale," the demon sighed, looking down at the dirt below his feet. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Aziraphale sputtered, "Why wouldn't you?! This must all be very confusing and you just believe me? Just like that?!"

Crowley crossed his arms over his chest defensively, "What other choice do I have? Should I not believe you?"

"What? No!" Aziraphale groaned looking frustrated with himself, "It's just… I can't imagine any of this is easy for you. I want- wanted to check in."

"You've been following me around all day." Crowley pointed out.

Aziraphale blushed in embarrassment, "I didn't want you to run back to Hell."

"Why would-?" He stopped himself, taking in the guilty look on the angel's face with a bit of surprise. He took a breath to calm himself down. This wasn't about him, or his amnesia. 

Crowley spoke quietly, trying not to sound too accusing, "It's because you would... if things were reversed." Aziraphale looked anywhere but the demon's face, "If your memories were taken you would have gone to Heaven in a heartbeat."

There was a moment of silence as Aziraphale fidgeted in place, refusing to meet the demon's unwavering gaze. Eventually, he nodded.

Crowley nodded back in understanding. Sitting down under the tree, knowing they were going to have a conversation about this. Whether the angel wanted to or not. 

"If you hadn't explained everything, I probably would have gone. If I'm honest." Crowley muttered.

Aziraphale hesitated before joining him on the ground, "But, you believe everything?"

The demon shook his head, not looking at the angel anymore, "I know you're leaving stuff out. Something's… different between us that you're not telling me." He sighed, picking at the grass. He was dying to know more about the kiss and if there was a chance they could do that again sometime. "But that's okay. I know I'm very vulnerable right now, and I also trust you — more than I probably should." Crowley chuckled nervously, "Maybe that's why future-me decided to take the full hit." he risked a look over to the angel, "He knew I would stay."

The angel's eyes widened and began to water a bit. Ah satan, he had said the wrong thing again. Aziraphale shouldn't cry, he can't cry. Not over something silly that Crowley had said, never. He opened his mouth to try and fix this, to apologize for whatever offense he had done.

"I should go." Aziraphale mumbled, standing on shaky legs and stumbling back over to the house.

Crowley fought the urge to follow him and make sure he was okay. The light was fading and Aziraphale was leaving in such a rush. Crowley knew when the angel wanted to be alone, so he stayed in the garden.

He tried not to worry too much about Aziraphale’s hasty escape, distracting himself with the handiwork of the landscaping. 

He never pinned the angel as a gardener, but a lot could change in a thousand years. 

He wandered the yard until a ringing started up in his ears unexpectedly. Maybe that was Aziraphale’s doing? There was technology that could produce that level of pitch nowadays, right? He shrugged, looking at the darkening sky and decided he should probably head in anyways. 

Carefully picking his way back to the house, he passed a statue he hadn't noticed before. The entire place seemed ridden with mysterious statues, but this one was different. He nearly stumbled at the sight of it, frozen in his tracks. 

Two winged people… wrestling? _It didn't look like wrestling,_ Crowley thought to himself privately. Why did the angel have _this_ in his garden? Of course Aziraphale could do whatever he wanted, he was an angel. But never, in a million years, would he have expected Aziraphale to have something so… explicit.

The ringing in his ear got louder to the point where Crowley could feel a headache coming along. He shrugged the thoughts out of his head and resumed his path back to the house. 

The statue was Aziraphale’s business and Crowley should not have wandered across it, the angel deserved his privacy.

He entered the house, wincing as the ringing became more annoying, "Are you making that dreadful noise?" he groaned out.

"What noise?" Aziraphale asked, drifting throughout the kitchen. A smell of baked goods washed over the demon, and the ringing began to dissipate.

"Nevermind," he muttered, taking in the angel who was looking over at him with reddened eyes. _So he_ had _been crying_. Crowley thought guiltily, "Are you okay?"

Aziraphale nodded, pursing his lips, "I'm thinking we should head into Tadfield tomorrow. Maybe Adam can help you get your memories back."

"And Adam is…?" Crowley raised an eyebrow, urging the angel to elaborate.

"The antichrist, dear." Aziraphale said shortly. Disappearing into the kitchen as the oven started to beep.

"The antichrist?!" Crowley followed, more than a little bewildered. "He's still alive?"

The angel hummed in confirmation as he took out the hot pan from the oven and placed it on the counter to cool. "It's only been eleven years. Of course he's still alive." Turning a few nobs to turn off the power, Crowley just tried to process this information. "Granted, he doesn't necessarily have any power — he made himself human after the apocalypse."

"He can _do_ that?" Crowley asked in shock, his mind still struggling to keep up.

Aziraphale shrugged, flipping over the pans he had taken out of the oven to shake the cake's out of them. "Apparently."

The demon stood a little awkwardly in the kitchen, watching the angel flit around cleaning up baking supplies. From all the attention and constant eyes on him earlier, this current ignorance was a bit cold. It almost made him wish the angel was following him around everywhere again.

"Okay, fine then." Crowley muttered, walking back out of the kitchen, "I'm going to sleep. Wake me when you want to leave, angel."

Aziraphale made a noncommittal sound, still distracted in the kitchen. Crowley rolled his eyes and headed to the bedroom to grab a proper pillow to nap on the couch — he had already tested the ones there and they were all too scratchy. 

Entering the bedroom, he noticed something was different. Things were all out of place. For instance, on the side table was a glistening object that was shining in the dying light. 

_That hadn’t been there before_. 

Curious, the demon headed over to it a bit tentatively. He felt he had already snooped enough on Aziraphale’s personal life today, but what was one more? 

It turned out to be a gold piece that looked familiar to him. He picked the ring up and squinted at the details in the craftsmanship. _Ah_ , he recognized it. This was Aziraphale's ring. The last few times he had seen him — when they weren't in armor — he had worn this ring on his pinky finger. Vaguely, he remembered wondering where it had gone when he woke up here, but a thousand and some years was plenty of time to re-up your jewelry. 

And yet... here it was.

Crowley frowned and fiddled with the thing a bit. This was most definitely not on the table when he had woken up originally. That meant Aziraphale had put it there at some point today. What did it mean?

"I should have given that back to you once you had woken up." Aziraphale said, startling the demon out of his thoughts. He looked nervous standing in the doorway.

Crowley jumped at the sound, "To me? It's yours." he said quietly, tracing the ring's details reverently.

The angel shook his head, "It's yours now."

"What?" the demon gulped, looking up at the angel with wide eyes. How had he ended up with something so precious to Aziraphale? The angel must be mistaken, that couldn’t be right. "Did you lose a bet or something? How-?"

Aziraphale shushed him gently, "Go to sleep dear. I'll explain everything after we visit Adam tomorrow." he began to shut the door on the very confused demon, "Keep the ring please." he shut the door with a click.

"What! Angel no!" Crowley was on his feet in an instant. He swung the door open, watching the angel walking away hurriedly, "Can't you explain now? What does this mean?"

"Go to sleep dear." Aziraphale called over his shoulder.

The demon was about to follow indignantly when a piercing headache rocked through his body. He winced and stumbled against the door frame, clutching his head.

"I'll explain tomorrow," Aziraphale called faintly as Crowley’s vision darkened. He tried to focus on his breathing as he threw himself back onto the bed, knowing he was about to pass out any second now. He didn't want to pass out in the angel's hallway and make a fool of himself.

Thoughts plagued his mind that was currently radiating pain throughout his body. He didn't want to wait until tomorrow to get the answers. Why couldn't the damned angel just tell him already? 

Clutching the ring tightly to his chest he squeezed his eyes shut as the familiar dizziness returned. Why did he keep feeling like this? What did this ring mean?

More questions flooded his mind as he drifted off into unconsciousness, a headache pulsing between his temples.

** 5 years ago (2025)  **

**** **"What do you say about getting married?" Aziraphale asked out of the blue one day.**

**Crowley stumbled and spilled his coffee all over the floor, but he didn't care. He just stared at the angel in shock, "Ngk. Uh… I can't go in churches."**

**"It doesn't have to be in a church. We could literally just exchange rings and call it marriage."**

**The demon continued to stare, "I don't have a ring for you." He mumbled as if he was embarrassed.**

**"That's okay, love." Aziraphale said, sipping his tea comfortably, "I didn't say we'd get married today. I just wanted your thoughts on the matter."**

**"Ngk."**

**"Is that a positive ngk? Or an uncomfortable-I-don't-want-to-do-that ngk?"**

**"First one."**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies! I’m so glad you all are enjoying and reading along! This next chapter is going to be another long one and I think you guys are going to like it ;) I’ll see you then! <3 <3 <3


	6. Adam the Antichrist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is!!! I’m very excited for this one, a lot of things happen and I think you guys are going to like it ;) Thank you guys so much for all the comments and kudos! I cherish every single one <3  
> (Also for this chapter and the ones from here on out, the flashbacks will probably get confusing if you don’t keep the ‘years ago’ in mind)

** 10 years ago (2020)  **

**** **"Are you okay angel?"**

**Aziraphale wouldn't meet his eyes, just staring off into the distance silently.**

**"Aziraphale?" Crowley's voice held a note of real panic that time, causing the angel to meet his gaze briefly. "What's wrong?"**

**"Nothing dear, everything's tickety boo." Aziraphale mumbled, returning to looking off at nothing.**

**Crowley didn't look convinced, studying the angel for another minute until it was clear Aziraphale didn’t want to talk about it. The demon grumbled to himself and settled on his side to try and continue his nap. He hoped the angel would be okay in the morning and that whatever was bothering him would miraculously go away.**

The next morning passed in a bit of a haze. Crowley wasn’t actually fully conscious until the pair of them were standing out in Aziraphale’s driveway, brisk morning air filling his nostrils. There was a cup of coffee in his hands that the angel had given him while they waited for a cab to arrive. 

The faint pangs of a headache still plagued him but the fresh air was helping. Absently, he reached for the golden ring, now residing on a necklace around his neck. The two of them hadn't talked much all morning. Crowley was too distracted by his headache to ask Aziraphale about the ring again and the angel seemed too stressed to hold any conversation.

So they waited patiently as a cab pulled up to Aziraphale’s house in silence. Crowley folded himself inside the car, glancing nervously at the driver who was staring at him. More specifically, staring at his eyes. Crowley hurriedly looked away, beginning to feel uncomfortable in his own skin. 

Sometimes he forgot his eyes were different when he was around the angel. 

Aziraphale entered the car from the other side, putting on his seatbelt and settling in for a long ride to Tadfield. 

Similar to their morning routine, the majority of the trip was spent in silence. Crowley looking out the window while Aziraphale’s gaze was firmly on his lap, fiddling with that silver ring again

Crowley did his best to not get too worried about Aziraphale’s usual chipper self, watching the strange new buildings and vehicles pass outside his window. Questions of 'what's that?' and 'why is that like that?' flooded his mind but he kept his mouth shut. Now was not the time or place. They were on a mission; it would be best to stick to it.

When they finally arrived in the small town of Tadfield, Crowley’s headache had finally dissipated. The angel exited the vehicle and guided the demon to a cozy little house that looked vaguely familiar, Crowley couldn’t figure out why. 

"He should be here." Aziraphale murmured quietly, stepping up to the door and knocking firmly.

Not a second later an older looking woman opened the door, blinking the sun out of her eyes as she took in the newcomers.

"Hello? Oh... it's you two." The woman smiled kindly at the pair before her eyes fell on Crowley. Her smile dropped.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Young." Aziraphale greeted politely, not noticing her strange behavior, "Is Adam in?"

Mrs. Young glanced back over at the angel and cleared her throat, "It's just your luck, he _did_ come by this weekend from university. He's in his room." She turned over her shoulder, calling for her son. When there was an answering grunt, she looked back to them. "He should be down any minute... Come in, come in!" She stepped off to the side, careful not to get too close to the demon.

"Thank you dear." Aziraphale entered eagerly, Crowley following closely behind. He did not like the way Mrs. Young was staring at his eyes unabashedly. He always hated when humans did that. 

Subconsciously, he moved slightly closer to Aziraphale, as if the angel’s grace would protect him from this human’s judgy gaze. 

You see, Crowley probably wouldn’t have cared all that much about the staring if he wasn’t missing a thousand plus years worth of memories. Humans had been staring at his eyes for _ages_ and he had learned to live with it. But now there was this ugly feeling of vulnerability that was gnawing at him. He didn’t know the social norms of today or if he might be burned at the stake for being different. It had happened before, and he wasn’t keen on repeating that experience.

The angel stilled a little at the presence of the demon standing a bit too close to him. Mrs. Young had excused herself to the kitchen where she was cooking lunch a moment ago. 

Aziraphale turned slightly, "Is everything alright?" he whispered.

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut, opening his mouth to respond when a boisterous young man practically skipped into the room. There was a little terrier hot on his heels. The demon’s eyes flew open at the sight, _was that a hellhound?_

"Crowley! Aziraphale! You're back!" Adam greeted cheerfully. "What's the occasion?" 

The man all but ran up to the pair, pulling each into a tight hug. Crowley stiffened at the arms around him. _Who was this man? Why was he touching him?_

Aziraphale smiled and patted the man's arm gently, he cast a glance over to where Mrs. Young was busying herself in the kitchen. "We're hoping to talk to you in private, we have a little bit of an issue."

The man — Crowley assumed was Adam the antichrist — nodded enthusiastically, "Sure sure yeah. We can talk out back." He guided them through the house, the little terrier obediently by his side. "I hope everything is alright?" Adam continued.

Crowley huffed, not quite knowing what to say at this point. Was everything alright? No. Obviously not. He was missing a chunk of memories, Aziraphale had kissed him and then they ignored it, he was getting headaches and threw up the other night — which _wasn’t_ normal for a demon. Honestly, what _wasn’t_ wrong with him at this point?

"They could definitely be better," the angel sighed dejectedly, as they stepped out into the back yard. 

The trio stopped walking. Adam turned to face them, questions clear in his eyes. 

"First, introductions are in order I believe. Crowley, this is Adam." Aziraphale put a hand on Crowley's shoulder gently, as if not to shock the serpent. 

"Figured that much." Crowley murmured, looking the boy over — doing his best to ignore the fluttery feeling in his stomach at the touch. 

Curly brown hair was tousled on top of the man’s head, bright green eyes were looking at him curiously, all in the corporation of a twenty year old male. He didn't look much like an antichrist. Much too… human.

"What's going on?" Adam asked, eyebrows furrowing, "I know who Crowley is."

The demon shrugged, hoping the angel could explain for him.

"I'm afraid he's lost his memory, dear." Aziraphale explained, gently squeezing Crowley's shoulder in a comforting manner before letting go. Crowley didn’t think about that touch _too_ much. "Gabriel and Beezlebub paid us a visit and took the past thousand and some years worth of memories from him." 

"They _what_?" Adam's voice lowered and he looked positively murderous. _Ah_ , Crowley could see how this man could be the antichrist now. The dog at the man's feet started to growl dangerously. "They can't do that! I told them to leave earth alone."

"I guess they found a loophole." Crowley muttered, fidgeting slightly at the sight of another demonic being. He didn’t like how that hellhound was looking at him.

"You _seriously_ can't remember anything?" Adam asked, looking over at the demon confusion clear on his face.

Crowley shook his head. 

"Then _that's_ why you're not wearing glasses or your ring." Adam nodded in understanding, starting to pace the small expanse of the garden. The dog still seemed on edge but wasn’t looking _as_ murderous anymore.

" _What?!_ " Aziraphale whirled on the demon, anxiety clear in his eyes. "Where's your ring? I told you to keep it."

Immediately Crowley put his hands up in surrender, not wanting to point out that it was, in fact, _Aziraphale’s_ ring. "Relax, I have it right here." He pulled the chain out from around his neck and showed the angel, eyebrows raised. "What's this about glasses?" 

The angel blushed a bit and visibly relaxed, "You usually wear sunglasses to cover your… well, eyes."

"I've never seen you go anywhere without them.” Adam added, “It's kinda cool to see them now though. If I had eyes like yours I wouldn't hide them away all the time," he grinned boyishly.

Aziraphale laughed, drawing the demon’s attention quite effectively. "That's what I keep telling him! But he always just has to have them on. It was a miracle that I got him to take them off for our-" he cut short and paled slightly. With a deep breath, he turned his attention back to Crowley, clearing his throat, "Nevermind, let's just say, it's been refreshing to see you like this. I do like your eyes very much dear. But if you do want sunglasses," he held up a pair of sleek looking shades, "these are the ones you usually wear."

Crowley narrowed his eyes, tentatively reaching out to take the glass pieces. He decided not to put them on just yet, Adam and Aziraphale didn't seem to mind his eyes but he didn't want Mrs. Young staring or frightening any more drivers. 

"Thanks." He grumbled, pocketing them carefully.

"So is there anything you can do?" Aziraphale asked Adam, a strained hope clear in his voice. 

The former antichrist shook his head, "I gave up my powers eleven years ago, there isn't much I _can_ do."

Aziraphale sighed heavily but nodded. He smiled sadly over at Crowley, "Well, thank you for seeing us anyway dear. Good luck with your studies."

Adam nodded, "Let me know if you need anything. I can't just command you to be back to normal anymore, but if you just want something human, let me know. I'm here for you." He guided the pair back through the house where they bid farewell to Mrs. Young, Crowley’s new sunglasses firmly intact.

He had to admit, wearing the shades was strange. It made the world darker — like they were supposed to — but it seemed almost _too_ dark. Definitely something to get used to. However, in a strange way, Crowley really liked them. He liked the tiny bit of privacy he had behind them, the little bit of mystery — and dare he say, _style_. 

As they waited for another cab to pick them up, Adam continued to ask the demon questions — about what he remembered but mainly what he didn’t. Crowley did his best to answer and keep conversation with the curious young man, sympathizing a little too much with his eagerness to _understand_ something.

He _also_ wanted to understand something. A few things actually. 

For starters, he wanted to understand the reasoning behind the ring currently hanging around his neck. The angel still owed him _that_ explanation. But, from the way Aziraphale had acted last night, it didn’t seem like a conversation for humans to overhear. 

When the car arrived to take them to Aziraphale’s home, they bid farewell to Adam and got back into the car. The ride back was once again spent in silence, Crowley’s questions running rampant only in the confines of his mind.

It wasn’t a comfortable silence either as it often was between the two of them. It was a tense and frayed sort of silence. Aziraphale was practically vibrating with nerves. The anxiety and stress in his aura was suffocating, even the driver looked tense when he glanced back on his passengers. Crowley wasn’t much better off, just more confused than stressed.

He hoped everything was okay, that it wasn’t something he had done to cause Aziraphale this anxiety. The demon tried not to think about it too hard until they were back at home, lest he might accidentally blurt out something inconsiderate.

"So that was a bust," he muttered, as the pair entered the angel’s home. They were finally away from the humans, they could talk now. Besides, Crowley disliked all these awkward silences.

"It was." Aziraphale muttered, pacing the living room nervously. "I'm sorry dear. I thought he would be able to help us."

The demon sighed and flopped dramatically on the couch, "Sorry angel, you're stuck with me like this." He grinned lopsidedly over to Aziraphale who gave a nervous smile in return, fidgeting with his hands in front of him anxiously. _Something was still wrong_. "Unless that's going to be an issue," Crowley added.

Would that be an issue? I mean it obviously was, he had already overstayed his welcome here but the angel was adamant about keeping the demon’s own residences a mystery. But if there was really no cure, no way to fix this, what were they to do? Crowley wouldn’t mind staying here indefinitely, but surely the angel would get annoyed at some point.

"No, no." Aziraphale cut in quickly, "It's not that dear. Not at all."

"Oh no of course not." the Crowley rolled his eyes. Everything had been his fault, every little thing that was wrong in Aziraphale’s life right now could be traced back to Crowley. "Having a demon invading your house, completely incompetent in today's society that you have to practically raise them is totally not an issue for you. Not to mention that I have been sleeping in your bed for the past — satan knows how long — while you suffer on the couch. I've gotten sick in your toilet and- and just admit it... You're better off without me. Just send me home." He huffed, “I can’t very well stay in your house forever.”

Why couldn’t the angel see that that was obviously the correct decision here? Aziraphale had never had reservation on shoving him off in the past. Why was now any different? 

There was silence as Aziraphale looked like he very much wanted to cry right now and Crowley didn't find it in himself to care… too much. This had gone on long enough and he would appreciate it if Aziraphale would just let him stop being a burden. He knew how much it pained the angel to see him this way so why didn't he just tell him already? Why-

" _Our._ "

Crowley's thoughts halted in their steps as he stared bewildered at the angel. _Our_? What did that mean?

Aziraphale took a shaky breath and continued, "This isn't _my_ house, it's _our_ house. It isn't _my_ bed, it's _our_ bed," he said slowly, staring determinedly at the floor, not meeting the demon's widened eyes. 

"What?" Crowley whispered. Not quite sure if he had heard that correctly. He removed his glasses to look at the angel without obstruction. Was the angel implying what he thought he was implying? That they lived together? They shared things? Not just meeting on the occasion to share a drink or a meal but shared a house? _A bed_?! 

The demon's head was spinning at this information. What happened in the past thousand years that led to _this_?

"You don't have another place to go to, dear, even if I wanted you gone- which I don't." Aziraphale clarified softly, "If you do want to leave, however, I understand." the angel sounded absolutely heartbroken at the thought.

Crowley, on the other hand, was just trying to keep all the questions in his head straight so they wouldn't come out in an unintelligible blurb, "What? No- I just… What _happened_?!" he didn't mean for it to come out so accusatory but the moment the words were out of his mouth, Aziraphale flinched.

"We got married." the angel's voice was barely above a whisper.

Crowley gaped, his mind blank. _Married_? How had that happened? He was married to Aziraphale?! Wait… "Are you pulling my leg angel?" his voice was an embarrassingly high pitch.

Aziraphale shook his head, almost looking ashamed.

"Ngk." Crowley blurted, looking down at the ring hanging around his neck in sudden realization, "This is…"

"Your ring, yes." Aziraphale finished for him.

_Fuck._

Was this real? It had to be real. Aziraphale wouldn’t lie about this, no. But how-? Why? _What?!_

The demon felt tears coming to his eyes unbidden as he looked at the angel wildly. Aziraphale looked back with a morose expression on his face but Crowley didn't care. What ring did Aziraphale have then? If they were married, Aziraphale would _have_ a ring. 

"'n yours?"

Aziraphale smiled, one that didn’t reach his eyes, and held out his hand so that Crowley could see. In no time at all Crowley was on his knees beside the angel, eyes trained with a fierce intensity on the ring. Seeing that it was the silver one he had seen the angel play with since waking up. It was engraved with a little snake that wrapped around the angel's finger. 

His throat closed up with unshed tears and he looked up at the angel with watery eyes. _At some point they had gotten married_. 

"When?" he choked out.

The angel's expression changed to one of fondness as if he was reminiscing the event, "Five years ago."

"Five years!" Crowley broke down in sobs and buried his face into the cushion of the couch. 

Considering their life span, five years was _nothing_. This meant that the demon had probably spent the majority of his forgotten memories hopelessly pining as he had ever since he met the angel. _How come it had taken so long?_

But he knew that answer, he had known since he realized the intensity of his feelings. Aziraphale was tied down to Heaven. 

The abuse his angel had faced during his time on earth was horrible; and to be honest, the demon had long ago accepted that Aziraphale would probably never come around to loving him back. He was perfectly content with it just being a secret fantasy of his for all eternity — at least, that’s what he told himself. And yet, against all odds, here they were a thousand and a half years into the future… _married_. 

And Crowley couldn't remember any of it.

In the midst of his sobs, a gentle hand carded through his hair comfortingly. The fingers massaged his scalp as Crowley tried to come to terms with this information. All his dreams had come true. He was free of Hell. He was married to Aziraphale. What more could he ask for?

Through the sniffles and tears he lifted his head to look up at the angel whose obvious concern radiated in his aura, "You love me?" he mumbled out, nearly unintelligible to the human ear.

"Yes. I love you." Aziraphale said with a smile, tears pricking the angel’s own eyes.

It felt like a punch to the gut and Crowley doubled over again with fresh tears. _Aziraphale loved him_. He _loved_ him. After four thousand years, here he was in the future getting _everything_. 

"I love you." Crowley choked out between his sobs. The angel probably knew already and had probably known for a while but he wanted to say it. To finally get it off his chest. For him, this was the first time. "I love you."

Soon arms were wrapping around the demon as the angel kneeled on the ground next to him. Crowley leaned into the warmth that was the angel — _his_ angel — clutching him like his life depended on it. 

"Oh my dear," Aziraphale muttered, pulling the demon close. 

Arms around each other, bodies shivering with tears, they stayed like that for a long while. Crowley drank in the feeling, wondering if this closeness was a normal occurrence, it must be considering they were _married_. For satan’s sake, they _shared a bed_! They must be close like this often. 

Wasn’t _that_ a thought.

When their tears finally ran dry and the demon's shaking had stopped, Aziraphale slowly got to his feet while helping Crowley to his. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Like the luckiest demon alive,” Crowley croaked out, smiling up at the angel adoringly. 

_We’re married_.

The angel pulled him into another tight hug, hands holding onto him tightly, “I can’t believe…” Aziraphale murmured into the crook of the demon’s neck, “even back then…”

Crowley sighed deeply, relishing in this comforting touch he craved. There was something else though, in the back of his mind that was gnawing at him, something Aziraphale had said, ‘ _our_ bed’. Could he- could they…? He was already blushing at the thought of just sleeping with the angel. Just lying next to each other — maybe in each other’s arms — and drifting off into unconsciousness.

“Would you… would you sleep with me? Tonight?” Crowley whispered, afraid to ask for it any louder in case it would scare the angel away, “Cause we’re married, right?”

_We’re married_.

Aziraphale pulled away and looked at the demon with a piercing gaze, “You would want that?”

Crowley felt himself blush and nod. “Just sleep, that’s all.”

A fond look crossed the angel’s face, “Of course my dear. Whatever you like.” 

_We’re married._

Together they stumbled over down the hall and to the bedroom, arm in arm. Crowley barely was conscious of anything, his head still reeling.

_We’re married_.

Without a thought, he miracled on a pair of pajamas and eagerly got in between the sheets, looking expectantly at Aziraphale who had moved over to the wardrobe and was rustling through it. 

_We’re married._

“You don’t miracle them on?” Crowley asked, trying not to choke on his own words as Aziraphale started to take off his many layers of clothing. 

The angel risked a glance at the demon reclining in their bed, “Clothing is one of the many pleasures I like to keep human, my dear. Are you uncomfortable?”

The demon was shaking his head before Aziraphale had even finished the question, enjoying way too much the inch by inch exposed skin of the angel. His most recent memory of Aziraphale — before waking up — he had been in a full suit of armor. Sure, he had seen the angel in many states of dress and undress throughout their history, but that was always cultural norms. This was… intimate. Dare he even say _domestic_.

He loved it.

_We’re married_.

When Aziraphale had finished changing he hurriedly slipped under the covers next to the demon, "Is this alright?"

Crowley would have smirked if he wasn't so overwhelmed by the proximity of the angel. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He couldn't believe this was actually happening.

_We’re married_.

"I'm sorry dear. We don't have to do this. This all must be a lot for you and I-" The angel started to ramble, anxiety clearly written all over his face. He moved to get back out of bed.

Crowley shushed him quickly reaching out with a tentative hand to settle the angel back against the pillows, "It's okay angel. We're married, this is more than alright." He liked the way that sounded on his tongue ‘ _we’re married_ ’. He couldn’t wait to try out ‘ _my husband_ ’ next. 

"Yes." Aziraphale sighed, looking very frustrated, "But you don't remember. That can hardly be fair."

The demon laughed and trailed his fingers down the angel’s arm to grab the angels hand, squeezing gently. Fascinated by the reality that he could actually _do_ that. "The only way it isn't fair is that I'm getting _a lot_ more out of this than you. I've wanted this for ages." 

Aziraphale sniffled slightly but wiggled down until he was lying besides Crowley. There were tears in his eyes, "Really?"

"Of course. Trust me this is like a dream come true." Crowley grinned, trying to lift the angel's spirits but seemed to be doing quite the opposite as Aziraphales eyes began to tear up even more. "Hey no. No, no angel please don't cry," he begged.

Aziraphale, stubborn as ever, didn't stop the tears from running down his cheeks, "I've been so cruel," he choked out, voice shaking as he squeezed the demon’s hand so tightly Crowley was worried he might actually break a bone.

"What? No no. Aziraphale... _angel_." the demon quickly tried to amend the situation, pulling him closer, still amazed that he was actually allowed to do this now. _We're married_. "You're not. Trust me, I've been to Hell and I know what cruelty is. You could never be cruel, even if you tried."

The angel sobbed quietly into the demon's shoulder, "You don't remember. The things I did…"

Something clicked from the first conversation he had had with Aziraphale after waking up.The angel had said, ' _I was so scared, we'd have to start all over.'_

He rubbed circles into the angel's back and hushed gently, "Hey, hey we're past this, alright? Future-me wasn't upset with you and I sure as hell am not. You have quite literally made this the absolute best day of my long long life... and I was there when they invented alcohol."

Aziraphale sniffed in amusement, slowly starting to relax against Crowley's body, "I love you," he mumbled out. The vibrations in his chest getting the demon drunk on the touch.

"I love you," Crowley answered back, curiously playing with the angel's hair. Delighted at the novelty of it all. The trust Aziraphale had put in him to be in the same bed together. 

_We're married_. 

The room was filled with a content silence for a few minutes where Crowley just took in the being that was laying next to him. It was everything he could possibly ever dream of, this closeness, the proximity. It was like laying on a heated rock or in a warm ray of sunlight… it was absolutely perfect. 

Crowley blinked in surprise when soft snores started to fill the room. Aziraphale had fallen asleep already? Laying practically on top of him, body completely relaxed, their fingers still intertwined loosely. 

He grinned as he took in the adorable looking angel, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. Careful not to wake Azira- _his husband_. 

_We're married_. 

He couldn't believe it. He didn't even want to sleep, he just wanted to sit there and stare. Soak it all up. But the warmth and love radiating off of Aziraphale was intoxicating and the demon really was tired. It wasn’t any trouble at all to just let the feeling consume him; and soon enough, he followed Aziraphale into unconsciousness.

** 5 years ago (2025)  **

**** **Aziraphale crept into bed alongside the demon who was swiping through the pictures of the wedding on his phone. At the dip in the mattress a pair of golden serpentine eyes peered over curiously.**

**"Mind if I join you?" The angel asked a tad shyly, already fidgeting with the new silver ring on his finger.**

**The demon grinned and wiggled closer to Aziraphale, "Of course… _husband_."**

**The angel grinned and leaned down to press a chaste kiss to Crowley's lips, "You seem to enjoy sleeping so much, I figured I should give it a try."**

**"Well, don't let me stop you," Crowley said, already throwing an arm and a leg over his angel, conveniently pinning him down, "We got married today, it's only right that we sleep together," he yawned, "to consume- 'consummate' the marriage or whatever."**

**Aziraphale smiled and shifted further down so his head rested lightly on the pillow as he gazed fondly down at his demonic husband. "I don't think that's quite how it works, love. But we've had a long day. Rest is deserved."**

**"A long brilliant fucking day," Crowley murmured sleepily, "We’re married."**

**"We’re married." Aziraphale repeated with finality as he tried to relax his body enough to slip into the unconscious.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! <3 
> 
> Don’t be fooled though… just because this one ends happily does not mean the rest of the story is going to be light and fluffy. We still have a lot more to cover but if you just want to end here, go for it. Things are going to get a bit worse (don’t think I have forgotten about Crowley’s little sickness) before they get better (there _is_ a happy ending) <3 <3 <3 I’ll see you guys next week!


	7. A Blast From the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Thank you all for the kudos and comments <3 They all brighten my day and it makes me happy to see so many of you are enjoying the story! 
> 
> Never fear, there are some fluffy bits in this chapter! Also some not-so-fluffy bits... but you were expecting that so… enjoy!

** 10 years ago (2020) **

**** **Aziraphale had been in there for a week. Seven and a half days to be exact — Crowley was keeping track — and the demon had been pacing outside the church for the past three of them.**

**It wasn’t completely unusual that the angel would want some time away, however this was getting a bit excessive. Crowley still worried over him, not entirely sure if Aziraphale was okay. If this sort of behavior was going to be the new normal in their relationship.**

**“Angel?” He called out uselessly. It wasn’t like Aziraphale could hear him from inside the building.**

**Groaning in frustration, he checked his watch again. _How long did one normally spend in a church?_ It had been a week. That couldn’t be normal. Should Crowley do something? What if Aziraphale was in trouble? What if he needed someone? And here Crowley was just standing outside... waiting.**

**“Screw it. I’m coming in Aziraphale! Whether you like it or not!” he announced to the cracked walls, mentally bracing himself for the burn of consecrated ground.**

**The last time he had done this was back during World War II. When he had dropped a bomb and saved some books. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to enter a church again after that.**

**And yet, here he was... dancing and hopping up to the doors once again.**

**“Aziraphale?!” he called out with a little yelp and hiss as he pranced down the aisles. The church had been left empty while the angel was in there. No human had dared to enter. “Angel?”**

**“Crowley?” A weak voice echoed through the high ceilings, making it hard to determine where it was coming from. Not a moment later the angel appeared at the end of the aisle.**

**The demon let out a sigh of relief before bouncing on his feet at the sparks of pain. He couldn’t exactly relax yet, but Aziraphale _did_ seem to be in one piece so that was good.**

**“O- oh my dear! Your feet!” Aziraphale’s voice was shaky and hoarse, not great signs. Even the way he approached the dancing demon was a bit unsteady.**

**As he got closer, Crowley noticed the redness and puffiness that surrounded his angel’s eyes. His body was shaking and pale all over as if he were cold or exhausted. Not to mention that his voice did not have that normal lilt, nor his eyes their usual sparkle. _What had happened?!_**

**“Screw my feet, are _you_ okay?!” Crowley asked, hopping up and down.**

**Aziraphale sighed heavily, “I’m fine dear, but I must insist you get off of that consecrated ground immediately.” As soon as he was within arms reach he scooped the demon up, “You’re an idiot.”**

**“I was worried.”**

**“I was fine.” Aziraphale huffed.**

**Crowley sighed and wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck, “Do you want to at least talk about it?”**

**The angel shook his head while he carried the demon back down the aisle and through the church.**

**Crowley ducked his head against Aziraphale’s chest, “Whenever you’re ready then. I love you.”**

**Aziraphale kept walking.**

The next morning Crowley awoke to a tangle of limbs, and surprisingly, they weren't his own. Aziraphale's head was buried in the crook of his neck and a leg was strewn over the serpent's torso while an arm was thrown across his chest possessively. The demon himself was just as entangled with the angel, one of his hands grabbing onto Aziraphale’s forearm and his leg hooked around the angel’s. 

Never in a million years would he have imagined ever waking up this way… it was wonderful. 

From what he remembered — back in his time — Aziraphale didn't sleep. The angel back then had much rather curled around a book or a cup of tea than venture into the unconscious. Crowley had never expected — and was never going to push — him to try it. Which made this experience all the more thrilling. 

Aziraphale's small snores and the warmth of his body against his, was giving the demon a blissful high. He couldn’t believe this was real, that _they were married._

Crowley grinned and shifted so he could have a better grip on the angel, pulling him closer — if that was even possible. He could stay like this forever. Just the feel, the smell, and everything else was absolutely perfect. 

His other arm snaked up Aziraphale’s torso to the tangled mess of blond curls on the angel’s head. Gently, he massaged and let himself drink it all in, enjoying the contented sighs of Aziraphale relaxing ever so much more against his body. 

It was probably about an hour later that Aziraphale finally began to stir. There was a shift in the angel's body as their legs disentangled.

Crowley, still in a daze and riding a high of the angel being this close to him grumbled at the movement. Why couldn’t they lie together just a little longer?

"Mornin," Aziraphale whispered gruffly into Crowley's ear.

_Oh_. The demon could have lived in that moment, he had never heard Aziraphale talk like _that_. So raw and without his usual careful wording or tone. He wrapped himself tighter around the angel, never wanting to let him go.

Aziraphale sighed pleasantly, "I missed you."

Crowley chuckled, "I've been here the whole time."

"No, I meant I missed this." Aziraphale corrected, a hand drifting up to the nape of the demon's neck, holding him close.

Crowley shivered at the touch, "Why- why didn't you tell me? You knew I’ve loved you forever. Waking up like this would have been… shocking. But not unwelcome."

Aziraphale shook his head, "I didn't know for sure. We… We never talked about that."

"We never talked about how long I've been in love with you?" He asked bewildered. That didn't seem like something he would leave out.

The angel sighed as if mourning the past, "The first few years after the apocalypse I was rather… delicate. Well... erratic is probably a better term for it. I wouldn't have been able to handle that you had been in love with me for so long. I could barely even say the words myself."

The demon pulled back to look at the angel in his watery eyes. There was so much that he didn’t understand about his own past and their journey together. He didn’t remember the troubles and bad times. He didn’t even remember the good times. Let alone the fact that he had just found out they were married less than twenty-four hours ago... and he was already criticizing how Azirpahale handled it. The one of the pair that actually remembered their past. 

His hands stilled from where they were tracing patterns into Aziraphale's back. "I'm sorry." 

"It's okay my love." the angel whispered, a look of bliss overtaking his features as he shivered, "It does feel good to say that again… _love_."

Crowley could feel himself growing flustered. He fidgeted against Aziraphale and tried to hide his no doubt bright, blushing face from him.

"Though, finding out you felt the same even back in 500AD is a pleasant surprise." Aziraphale pulled away, almost seeming to relish in the flushed demon, "You get a lot of new firsts." he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of the demons nose.

Crowley stared wide eyed and was sure he had transported to another dimension, "Oh."

Aziraphale giggled and moved to get out of bed. Crowley reluctantly let him, still laying in shock that this entire morning was reality. "Come, let's have breakfast." the angel called, treading out the door in those ridiculous pajamas

"Breakfast." Crowley repeated breathlessly and followed him in a stumbly daze.

_They were married_. This wasn't a dream, this was real. They were a couple, and couples ate breakfast together.

“We’re married.” Crowley mumbled as they entered the kitchen.

“That is correct,” Aziraphale nodded, glancing back at the demon with a bright grin.

Crowley stopped in his tracks and leaned against the wall just inside the kitchen, as if the thought was just now setting in. _Woah, they were married._

Aziraphale flitted about, pulling out the kettle and another machine along with two mugs. Crowley wasn’t really paying attention, still quite lost in his thoughts.

"So… we're married." Crowley muttered dumbstruck once again. Trying to rap his head around it.

Aziraphale chuckled lightly from where he was in the kitchen, preparing Crowley's coffee. "Yes dear."

"You married me." The demon restated. 

"Yes love." the angel chided, placing the mug into Crowley's hands, "And you married me. That _is_ how marriage works.”

"Right." The demon sipped at his coffee as Aziraphale sat by his side at the kitchen table. "We're married."

Instead of responding verbally, Aziraphale just leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. The demon flushed accordingly. 

"Would you like to put the ring on dear?" the angel asked quietly. Crowley still had Aziraphale's old ring tied around his neck and had been clutching at it sporadically throughout the morning.

Crowley whirled, wide eyes on the angel, "You want me to?" he asked. 

Aziraphale nodded, "Only if you want to dear. I know this all must be overwhelming. Just do whatever you're comfortable with."

The demon shakily untied the cord from around his neck and unstrung the ring from it, "Are- are you sure?" he asked again. "It's just, it's not _me_ that you married. It's me in a thousand and some years. What if-" he gulped, "What if I'm different now, and you change your mind?"

Aziraphale silenced him with a kiss, "I will never _ever_ stop loving you," he said. He pulled away, meeting Crowley's wide eyes steadily, really driving home the point, "No matter what you remember or don't. You are you and that's all that matters," The demon blinked away his tears and looked away, "but don't do something you aren't ready for, dear."

"I think…" Crowley started, clearing his throat. "I think I'm going to keep it around my neck for now," he finished quietly, gingerly tying the string back together.

The angel smiled encouragingly and kissed his forehead, "Perfect," he whispered.

Crowley blushed and fidgeted uncomfortably. He coughed, "So, what are we doing today?"

Aziraphale pulled away and put his dirty dishes in the sink, "Whatever you would like, love. I figured you would have a lot of questions and I don't have any plans." The demon followed him like a lost puppy, "Or... if you need more time to process I can give you space and-"

"No." Crowley interrupted quickly, "I- I don't want you to leave."

The angel smiled kindly, reaching out and grabbing the demon's hand, "Then I won't. Whatever you would like."

Crowley just stood gaping at Aziraphale for a solid minute. "I love you," he finally said pulling the angel into a hug, "I can't believe this is real," he clutched him tightly, trying his hardest not to cry again.

"Oh my love." Aziraphale embraced him, trying to convey all the warmth and affection he could with his touch. 

Well how was Crowley not supposed to get overwhelmed when Aizraphale kept saying stuff like _that._

They stayed, holding each other, for a few minutes until Crowley built up the courage to pull away — a courageous feat for the demon. Wide watery golden eyes looked up at the angel with such a sense of awe and adoration.

"Can- can we talk in the garden?" he asked, voice tight and quiet. The garden seemed like a safe place. He had liked it out there when he went exploring a few days ago. There were little trophies and hints at a past life that he didn’t remember and it seemed like a good place to start.

Aziraphale smiled down at him, gently guiding the demon by the hand to the door, "Of course."

The two entered the garden and Crowley breathed in deeply, trying to get a hold of his emotions. Aziraphale’s hand was still in his and the angel didn’t seem keen on letting it go. That was… something. Having this comforting, strong presence right next to him was both grounding and incredibly distracting. 

They stumbled over to the pear tree where they had sat the other day. The day where Crowley had unintentionally made Aziraphale cry. Not a great memory, however, it was a great place to sit. 

So they sat together, fingers intertwined as Crowley took in the garden once again with the new lense that this was _theirs_. 

"So thissss…" he started, the hiss coming back into his voice unbidden, "garden. Who takes care of it?"

The angel sighed, "Well, technically it's _ours_ to take care of, but you're the one who does all the upkeep and actual gardening." he explained patiently. 

"And the statues?"

Aziraphale blushed, "All yours. You were very attached to them even before we moved in together."

Crowley's mind recalled the wrestling statute and his cheeks flushed. That made a lot more sense actually. Aziraphale would never have something like that of his own. 

He nodded, ducking his head to the side hesitating a moment before asking, "Where did we get married?"

The angel's expression melted into one that was impossibly soft. "Oh it was so wonderful, my love. It was at a cliffside not far from that oyster restaurant we visited and- Oh!" he fished for something in his pocket, "Do you have your phone? There are pictures on it from the event."

Crowley miracled it to his hand. He hadn't touched the thing since he had woken up. He barely knew how to work the device and didn't want to mess anything up for the future-him. Such as accidentally deleting the lockscreen picture of Aziraphale. 

Definitely did not want to lose that. 

He held it out to the angel so he could pull up the pictures. Aziraphale grabbed it with a smile. Brows furrowed as he tapped a few things in deep concentration. This phone was a different style than his own so he was clearly having difficulties. 

After a few minutes of this, Crowley had just about given up on seeing the pictures when Aziraphale made a chirpy noise and wiggled victoriously.

"Here it is!" he beamed, holding it out for Crowley to hold. "Just swipe and you can see them all."

Crowley gingerly took back the device and saw the first picture of Aziraphale at the altar, dressed in a white suit and his heart stopped. 

_Oh fuck_.

"We had a photographer come and take candid shots throughout the wedding and reception." Aziraphale continued as if he hadn't just completely halted the demon's entire world. "The humans we invited are the ones who were there at the Apocalypse. Look you can see Adam here." He pointed somewhere in the audience of the picture; but Crowley wasn't even paying attention. Eyes still trained on the Aziraphale in the picture. 

_He looked so happy_.

Aziraphale continued to talk about the ceremony, going into a tangent after tangent of every little miniscule thing about the event. He spoke of the outfits and the vows and the exchanging of rings, everything. Yet, it all just passed over Crowley like a wave as he swiped through the pictures, forgetting to blink.

Crowley moved _very_ slowly, pausing on each picture for a _minimum_ of five minutes. He tried to commit each image to memory and prayed that these pictures might help him _actually_ remember this event. About three pictures in, he started to cry. Bringing his knees up to his chest and having the phone screen as close to his face as possible while still seeing everything clearly. It was strange to look through his wedding that he didn't remember.

It was all so beautiful. His hair had been windswept for half of the pictures and Aziraphales was frizzed up around his face like a halo. All of the scenery was absolutely perfect, Crowley couldn't have imagined a better day. He just wished he could remember it.

"Are you okay, love?" Aziraphale asked finally after about an hour of gushing about one of the pictures.

Crowley shook his head and sat quietly, a steady stream of tears flowing down his cheeks. He dared not to remove his eyes from the screen. "I need a minute," he forced out.

Aziraphale hesitantly brought an arm around the demon's shoulders and pulled him close to his side, "Of course," he said quietly, kissing the top of the demon's head.

When Crowley finally got through all the pictures he turned and sobbed into the crook of the angel's shoulder, mourning those beautiful memories he lost. Aziraphale shushed and hummed in support, rubbing circles into the demon's back comfortingly.

"It's alright, you're alright," Aziraphale cooed, holding Crowley tightly.

The demon choked on his tears, before sputtering, "I want them… the memories… I need them _back_."

"Oh my love." Aziraphale squeezed his own eyes shut, a single tear escaping, "I'm so sorry." 

As carefully as he could, Crowley set the phone and all the images down. His hands came up to the angel's coat and he gripped the fabric like the world was ending, burying his face into the Aziraphale’s chest. "Angel," he sobbed, "What are we going to do?"

Aziraphale brought a hand up to the back of the demon's head, cradling him carefully. "I'm not sure, my dear." he kissed the tattoo at the demon's temple, feeling the shudder of Crowley's body against his, "We will do whatever we need to do to get them back. We'll face it together, like always."

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut and let himself be held by the angel. 

The world was starting to spin around him and in a wave of exhaustion that took over the demon's body; he passed out.

** 11 years ago (2019) **

**** **Crowley was in a deep sleep on the bookshops couch, courtesy of a rather strong bottle of scotch. Aziraphale didn’t really feel the need to join him so he had sobered himself up after the demon started to doze. Instead he curled up around a good book.**

**Everything was absolutely peaceful.**

**Aziraphale lost himself in the story, enjoying how the familiar words were able to** — **once again** — **transfer him into an entirely different world. He read for hours, undisturbed, while sipping gingerly at his tea that never got cold.**

**That was until Crowley started to fidget.**

**The angel glanced over his reading glasses at the movement. When he saw it was just the demon, he went back to his reading with a fond smile.**

**“Mghmf!” Crowley groaned a few moments later, body starting to spasm.**

**Aziraphale frowned and tilted his head to the side. _What was going on?_**

**The demon’s movement started to get more violent and the angel was at a loss of what to do. He quickly took off his reading glasses and set his book to the side.**

**Standing, he walked over to where the demon lay, rearranging the blanket over him in hopes it might calm him down.**

**Crowley’s eyes were squeezed shut, his face contorted in a look of pure torment as he thrashed some more. His breath was coming faster now, and Aziraphale still had no idea what to do.**

**“Crowley?” he called out gently, not wanting to make anything worse.**

**“Aziraphale…” the demon whimpered out, as he seized once more.**

**The angel bit his lip, placing a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, pulling on a quick miracle to wake him.**

**With the most blood curdling, all encompassing, terrifying scream Aziraphale had ever heard, the demon surged to a sitting position, panting heavily.**

**“Angel!” his golden eyes flew wide open as he looked around wildly.**

**“I’m right here, right here.” Aziraphale soothed, trying to catch the demon’s attention.**

**Crowley’s serpentine eyes fell on the being beside him and his body sagged in relief. He threw himself forward onto him. Aziraphale stiffened at the sudden contact, still not entirely used to the physicality of their relationship. It always made him feel a bit awkward.**

**Meanwhile the demon started to sob loudly, chanting, “not burning, not burning, not burning,” under his breath until he eventually drifted back off to sleep.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! This chapter — after going through and rereading/editing it — is actually more of a game of ‘how many different places on Crowley’s head can I write Aziraphale kissing?’ Very fun game. Made me happy, so I wrote it. Sorry if it’s a bit cringy <3
> 
> Next chapter is another long one and is definitely getting darker as we start to get to the conclusion. Don’t worry, there is a happy ending <3 <3 <3


	8. Bookshops Don't Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies! Thank you so much for all lovely comments and many many kudos on the last chapter, it made my entire week. This chapter is really long and a lot of things happen in it so I hope you guys will enjoy it as well <3 <3 <3
> 
> CW: vomiting/nausea (the vomiting isn’t super graphic but it is there)

** 10 years ago (2020) **

**** **“Did… did you lock me out?!” Crowley banged on the bookshop door insistently. What was going on with Aziraphale? He knew the angel was having a few bad days but he had never locked Crowley out of the bookshop before, “Angel!”**

**There was a muffled thump from inside, “I don’t want to talk to you!” Aziraphale called out.**

**“What? Why?” The demon asked, dumbfounded. Did he do something wrong? He thought back to their earlier week. He had gotten the angel pastries, they had toured one of the royal gardens, it had all been nice.**

**“I said I don’t want to talk to you!”**

**Crowley groaned and sagged against the door, “Are you alright at least? When can I come back?” he looked down at the back of chocolates in his hands. What was he supposed to do with these now? It’d be a pity to waste them.**

**“Never!”**

**“Never? Come on angel.” Even for Aziraphale, that was dramatic. “How about the Ritz tomorrow? How does that sound?” Going out to eat always cheered the angel up.**

**There was silence from the inside of the shop for long enough that Crowley was starting to seriously worry.**

**Then there was a shuffle of feet and Aziraphale mumbled, “Fine, pick me up at six but don’t even _think_ you are coming over for drinks afterwards.”**

**Crowley released a breath and grinned, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” he hesitated for half a second, “I love you.”**

**There was a mumbling inside that he couldn’t decipher and the demon took it as his cue to leave.**

When the demon finally came to, it wasn’t pleasant. He could barely focus enough to discern his surroundings. There was a body next to him that was radiating too much heat. There was a light somewhere in the distance that seemed to pierce to the very depths of him. All the while his stomach was doing flips, making him increasingly nauseous. It was all too much. He was about to be sick.

"Crowley dear, is something wrong?" Aziraphale asked, his voice ricocheting through the demon's skull. "Love?"

Crowley groaned and turned away from the light and the body — that was Aziraphale. His fingers gripped the edge of the bed tightly as he hauled his upper half over the edge to release the contents of his stomach.

"Oh dear." Aziraphale's voice sounded again, making the demon wince at the sheer volume of his voice. It was too much. Too loud.

There was a movement on the bed, as if someone was getting off, making the bed rock. The movement — similar to that of a rocking ship — brought a fresh wave of nausea over the demon and he retched once again. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he winced as a gentle hand laced through his hair. The angel was pulling it back and miracling it clean. The touch was both welcomed and torturous. His skin felt too hot, as if he was burning up from the inside out. Any touch just made him sicker. Thankfully the angel didn't do more than tie his hair out of his face.

There was more noise as Aziraphale moved about the room — probably to grab the bin in case Crowley threw up some more. Each little noise filled the demon's head and just made him feel even more awful. He didn't even realize he was crying until there was a too hot touch to his cheek, wiping the tears away.

"Shh, love. You're okay," the angel's soft voice sounded, suddenly sounding as if it was drifting through many layers of cotton.

He was about to pass out again, Crowley knew it. He tried to open his mouth to warn the angel but as soon as he did, Aziraphale's hand moved away quickly, letting his head drop; and the darkness took over.

The second time he awoke was much more pleasant. He felt warm and safe being covered in an abundance of blankets. The room was dark, there wasn't any light anymore and nobody was resting next to him. There was, however, a pleasant smell was wafting in the air, as if someone was baking in the other room. 

Crowley attempted to sit up, peeling back the layers of tartan that covered his body. When he wiggled to a vaguely sitting position a wave of dizziness came over him. Thankfully, it was gone within a minute. 

He sighed in relief and looked down, seeing that Aziraphale had put him in tartan pajamas. _Well, that wasn’t attractive_.

With a snap, Crowley tried to miracle them to their normal silk but... nothing happened. He snapped again. 

Nothing. 

The door creaked open and Aziraphale was peaking in, a look of concern and delight crossing his face when he saw the demon sitting up. "Hi love," he whispered.

Crowley grunted his hello, still thoroughly confused as to why his miracles weren't working.

"Are you feeling better?" Aziraphale asked, stepping into the room gingerly. He was wearing a tartan apron that tied around his waist. There was a dusting of flour on his chin that was incredibly endearing. 

So _he_ had been baking.

"Yeah." Crowley furrowed his eyebrows trying to remember how he had gotten here like this. He only remembered the conversation in the garden and that was it. "What happened?" he asked.

Aziraphale sighed and walked up to Crowley, holding the back of his hand to the demon's forehead, taking his temperature, "You've been throwing up all night. Gave me quite the scare."

"Oh." the demon vaguely remembered that, "Well, I'm feeling better now." he reassured the nervous looking angel.

Aziraphale clasped his hands in front of him with a smile, "Oh that's good! Would you like something to drink? Something to eat?" he moved swiftly to the side table and picked up the glass of water there, "I couldn't get you to consume anything last night, I was nervous there was going to be nothing left in your system to throw up at one point. Here, drink some water." He lifted the glass to the demon's lips.

Crowley took a few baby sips of the water, enjoying how the cool liquid flowed down his sore throat like a balm. But soon enough he was pushing the glass away. 

"I'm okay, angel. Really," he muttered, throwing a leg over the side of the bed.

Aziraphale hovered by his side, as if he was about to collapse at any moment. The demon stretched and yawned, glancing down at his pajamas once again.

He shot a side eye over to the angel, "Tartan? Really?" he asked, rolling his eyes playfully.

Aziraphale blushed and stepped away, "I think they look very dashing."

"Of course you do." The demon grumbled moving to the wardrobe to find something more suitable since _apparently_ his miracles didn't seem to be working.

The angel cleared his throat from behind him, "Um, dear?"

Crowley paused, looking over at him expectantly.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for clothes." the demon raised his eyebrows as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He had just seen Aziraphale rummaging around in this same wardrobe for his own clothes two days ago. "You don't expect me to stay in tartan forever do you?"

"Oh, well…" The angel fidgeted coming over next to him, "You don't really keep clothes here." He explained, "You don't keep clothes at all — besides what you wore to the wedding — you usually just… miracle everything on."

Crowley nodded. Well... that complicated things. Taking a deep breath, he tried once more to miracle proper clothes onto himself again. 

_Snap_. 

The miracle worked, _thank_ _someone_.

He sighed in relief as tight clothing encompassed his body.

Aziraphale tilted his head in confusion at the dramatics of it all and shook his head. "Come along, love. I've made tea," he said, moving out the door, "I'm glad you're feeling better."

The world tilted around the demon as he stumbled after the angel. That miracle must have really taken it out of him. However, his disorientation was only momentary. 

Taking a deep breath, he sat himself down across from the angel’s seat. Aziraphale was humming a little tune while flitting around the table, pushing some biscuits over to the demon. The worry lines on the angel’s face had yet to disappear so Crowley reluctantly picked up a biscuit and nibbled on it. Hopefully it would appease Aziraphale’s nerves. 

Crowley didn’t usually eat, it was never much of a priority. It wasn’t like he _needed_ food to survive and it wasn’t enjoyable for him like it was for the angel. 

Similarly, demons weren’t supposed to get sick either. So what was the past few days all about? His miracles weren't working, he had been throwing up all night, his memories were gone and a million other issues. 

There was obviously something wrong with him. _However,_ he didn't want to worry the angel anymore than he already had. Aziraphale had taken care of a barely conscious, sick demon all night and also his emotional outpour yesterday over the wedding photos. Aziraphale was probably exhausted.

Meanwhile, the angel moved to the kitchen to pull out a fully baked pie from the oven and inhaled deeply with a smile. "I was thinking of heading to the bookshop today," he called over his shoulder. "There might be some books there that can help with your memory loss."

"Huh," Crowley answered, attempting to swallow down at least a little of the tea. He wished he had a spare miracle to spike it, make it more tolerable. "That's a good idea, when do we leave?"

Aziraphale frowned, "Well, I wasn't sure if you were going to be up for it. You were not well at all last night-"

"I'm better now," Crowley interrupted, jaw set in determination. It wasn’t _exactly_ a lie. He wasn’t currently throwing up all over the floor, so _technically_ he was better.

The angel hummed, placing the pie on the counter for it to cool. "If you insist, my dear. I would love to have company at the shop."

"I'd be glad to see it," the demon said with genuine interest. In all honesty, he had been curious about the shop. 

From what he’d been told, the bookshop had been the angel's home for centuries before moving here. They must have made loads of memory within those walls. 

"It might jog something," the demon muttered hopefully.

Aziraphale sighed wistfully, "I would like to hope so. We did have some good times there."

Crowley stared down at his cup, longing for those memories. What were the good times? How often did they hang out at the bookshop? Is that where the angel fell in love with him? 

He just wanted to know. 

He had this perfect life now but he didn't even remember some of the best parts! This was real torture. Maybe Beezlebub and Gabriel were onto something with taking his memories away. Maybe they knew it would absolutely wreck him.

The demon’s phone rested on the table and Crowley eyed it warily. Were the pictures still on it? Could he look at them again? See his wedding all over again? Would they still be there? 

Reaching out, he grabbed the device and opened it. 

Immediately, the screen lit up with the last picture he had looked at: their hands clasped together with their newly exchanged rings. With a shaky breath he started swiping through them again. 

He just wanted to remember.

"Did you finish your tea?" Aziraphale asked, coming to sit back down at the table.

Without taking his eyes off his phone, Crowley took the cup and downed the entire thing, enjoying the warmth as it made its way down his throat as he continued to swipe through the pictures.

Aziraphale sighed and brought his own phone out, "Okay, I'll call the cab. It should be here in a jiffy."

Driving into London absolutely blew Crowley's mind. He was ever so grateful for his glasses so he could gawk and stare out the window as much as he desired.

Aziraphale was sitting primly next to him, fidgeting nervously. Obviously Crowley noticed the angel’s weird behavior, but he couldn’t understand what was wrong. He really was feeling much better and had tried to convince the angel that at every turn. Yet, still Aziraphale fretted. Crowley was beginning to think anxiety was just the angel's constant mental state now.

The demon’s hand drifted to his neck where his ring hung on a necklace. He fiddled with it briefly, trying to keep an optimistic outlook. He was here to get his memories back. As soon as that happened, Aziraphale could relax. Then they could figure out this strange sickness and lack of miracles that was plaguing him. It wasn’t like the two were related… were they?

Turning his attention back to the city, questions once again filled his mind as strange contraptions and people doing strange activities passed his window. He tried to swallow them down so as to not annoy the already tetchy angel.

Eventually, the car slowed to a roll and stopped in front of a shop. 

"We're here," Aziraphale announced quietly.

The angel and demon left the car simultaneously and paused on the steps of the book shop. 'A.Z. Fell and co.' it read on the sign above the door. Aziraphale seemed to look at Crowley expectantly as if waiting for something to happen. 

"This is where you lived?" Crowley asked.

Aziraphale sighed and nodded, opening the door for the demon, "Yes, it was quite a lovely few centuries."

Once inside Crowley breathed deeply, hoping against hope that he might remember something. The place felt old. Dust and ancient looking books were strewn across the place. He did get a strange sense of deja vu but nothing concrete — such as memories of the past thousand and a half years.

"Alright my love," Aziraphale reached out for the demon's hand and squeezed gently, "I'm going to look for some books that may help our… situation. There's a room in the back where you can rest."

"I can help," Crowley rushed, eager to get his memories back.

"Are you sure my dear?" he turned to face the demon, brushing a stray red hair behind his ear then cupping his face, "You're looking a bit pale."

Crowley frowned, he wasn't feeling much different but he still wanted to be helpful. He wanted to prove he wasn't just a useless snake that made the angel's life just a bit harder the past weeks. There had to be something he could do. 

"I can make you tea?" he offered.

The angel beamed, leaning in to kiss him on the forehead, "Sounds wonderful my love. Come, I'll show you our sitting area.”

Aziraphale led him to the back where there was an arrangement of sofas and armchairs piled high with pillows and blankets along with a thick layer of dust. Aziraphale snapped and the dust disappeared.

"My kitchenette is through that door. Kettle and tea should be there in one of the cupboards," Aziraphale squeezed the demon's hand once more before letting go, "I'll go collect some books that may help us with your condition and come back in here to read them with you over a nice cuppa. It should only take a moment."

Crowley nodded as the angel walked away. 

Time to make tea. 

He made his way to the kitchenette that Aziraphale had pointed out and his mind lost focus. Before he realized what was happening, the kettle was plugged in and the teacups were gathered. _How had he done that?_ Oh yeah, his subconscious seemed to really like making tea.

He rolled his eyes and let his mind wander as he prepared the cups. What went well with tea? Biscuits? Aziraphale had set those out this morning. Crowley rummaged through the cupboards for something the angel could snack on but came up empty. Aziraphale hadn’t visited the shop in months most likely, any food left behind would probably be stale.

Crowley stared down at the two cups of piping hot tea. A minor miracle wouldn’t hurt, would it? You can’t just serve tea without biscuits, right? 

The demon focused on the tin of biscuits Aziraphale had placed out this morning, really imagined it in his mind's eye and… _snap_. 

The tray remained empty and Crowley stared down in confusion. 

_Snap_. 

Nothing happened.

Groaning he tried a few more futile times before giving up, settling to just serve the tea by itself.

If he remembered correctly, Aziraphale didn't even like miracled food anyway, so this newest development was probably a blessing in disguise. It still had him worried that something was terribly wrong. Demon’s weren’t supposed to lose their ability to miracle things.

He resolved not to think about it and set down the cups of tea on the table. Memories were top priority, once he got those back, he could worry about everything else. 

With an exhausted sigh, he curled up on the longer sofa, nuzzling the pillows that gave such a distinct 'Aziraphale' scent. He liked that. He could curl up here forever, if that was allowed. Maybe he could sneak some blankets back to their home? Aziraphale wouldn’t mind, would he? 

He hissed in contentment and sprawled out among the fluffy things, he got so comfortable that he didn’t even notice when the angel re-entered the room a few minutes later.

"So I have these two. They're a bit on the older side, if I'm honest. They’re from the thirteenth century. Then I have this one which is one our dear witch-friend Anathema gifted us a while back that at a glance doesn't mention memory loss, but figured it would still be a good one to see-" he paused, taking in the sight of a cuddly demon in his pillows with a fond smile, "Was I interrupting something?"

Crowley hissed contentedly and rubbed his cheek against the pillow again, "Everything here smells like you."

Aziraphale's expression softened impossibly so, "I did spend a lot of time here, back in the day…" he sighed wistfully then righted himself handing a book over to the demon, "Are you still up for a little light reading?"

Crowley shrugged and nodded, taking the book from the angel graciously. Memories first, cuddles later. He settled back against the sofa while Aziraphale made himself comfortable in the armchair. 

He looked down at the cover of the thick text the angel had given him. Frowning a bit as he couldn’t recognize the symbols on the cover. Was that a new language? 

Maybe it was just the cover. 

He flipped it open to see the symbols continued in nonsensical order inside the book. But why were the symbols _moving_? He flipped a page, trying to find something he could recognize but the symbols just kind of floated and danced in front of his eyes. _What?_ Crowley could have sworn he could read a minute ago. He had read the sign above Aziraphale’s shop, hadn’t he? 

With a frustrated groan he slammed the book shut. There was the faintest bit of a headache and a distant ringing in his ears he assumed was from his intense concentration on _nonsense_.

"Love?" Aziraphale hummed, not looking up from his own reading, "Was there nothing good in that one?"

The demon changed his gaze to the front of the shop, trying to focus on something other than the book in front of him, "I couldn't read it," he mumbled, purposely unintelligible.

Aziraphale looked up, confusion clear in his eyes. "What?"

"I couldn't read it," he said a bit clearer, causing the angel to frown.

"Oh. Did I grab the Latin one on accident?" he gently set down his own book to come over to Crowley's side and check out his.

The demon rolled his eyes, reluctant to point out that if it _had_ been Latin, he would have _still_ been able to read at least _some_ of it. No, it wasn’t that. There was something bigger going on here. Maybe he should tell the angel about his little miracle problem and the headache growing stronger in his head.

Aziraphale tutted as he sat down on the sofa next to Crowley, "That is quite strange. I can read it perfectly. Are you sure you're feeling alright?" There was a soft touch on the back of the demon's hand and he turned to face Aziraphale who frowned at the sight. "Oh my love, you're eyes have gone completely serpent and you're still dreadfully pale. Should we go home? Call it a day?"

"We haven't done anything!" Crowley hissed out. True, he didn’t feel well but they had barely sat down to read these books on how to get his memories back. There was no way he was leaving without at least a hint on how to do that.

There was a calming hand running through his hair that the demon belatedly realized was Aziraphales. 

"Shh, it's okay. I can grab a few more books and we can head home and do the reading there. Something fruitful is bound to come of this, I'm sure." Aziraphale soothed.

Crowley shook his head, feeling tears come to his eyes unbid, "What if we miss something and have to come back? Why not just stay here until we figure it out?"

"If we miss something, we will come back later. There's no rush-" Aziraphale started.

"I don't want to wait!" the demon snapped. How could the angel not understand how awful this was for him? He was tired of all this confusion and constant playing of ‘catch-up’. He was tired of not remembering the best moments of his life. He just wanted to remember their first kiss, the first time they said 'I love you', their wedding. He wanted to know how the years of pining felt, the pain of the apocalypse, even their fights. For _someone's_ sake! He was missing more than a thousand years worth of memories! Even for an occult being, that was incredibly disorienting.

Aziraphale's eyes widened a bit and he leaned away.

"I'm sorry I just-" Crowley buried his head in his hands, wiping the tears away furiously, "I don’t want to wait anymore."

There was silence before warm arms enveloped the demon, "Don't apologize my love. I can't imagine how hard this is for you, I should've realized… Forgive me for being so inconsiderate," Aziraphale mumbled, sounding absolutely heartbroken.

The demon shook his head, about to refute what the angel had just said when a sudden wave of dizziness overcame him. 

"Ugh," he stiffened in Aziraphale's arms as he tried valiantly to get the world to right itself. The ringing in his ears from earlier returned at a much louder volume.

"What's wrong?" Aziraphale asked, pulling away to get a glimpse at the demon's pained expression, "Oh…" he murmured, understanding almost too well.

As gently as he could, he laid the demon down onto the sofa as Crowley hissed in pain.

"Oh my dear, you do not look well at all," the angel sighed, tugging a blanket so it rested over the demon’s shivering form.

Crowley groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. The light and sound in the bookshop was gradually becoming too much for him. "Gonna be sick," he choked out as the nausea set in.

Aziraphale hummed, just a hint of panic in the note, "Okay, what can I do?"

"The light," Crowley gasped out, fisting his hands in the blanket to get control over his urge to gag, "sound… ‘s too much."

With a snap, the shutters closed and the shop was cast in imperfect darkness, "Better?" Aziraphale whispered, voice impossibly soft.

A car honked from the street outside, and the noise of people chattering drifted into the shop and the demon grimaced. "No," he replied honestly.

There was a scuffing, shuffle sound from next to him as the angel moved off the couch and onto his knees next to the demon. Crowley didn't need to open his eyes to see the look of concern on Aziraphale's face. 

"Okay my love. Brace yourself." There were two hands cupping his chin and the demon shuddered at the touch. He didn’t like the tone of that. What was the angel going to do?

A bright light flashed through the room causing the demon to reel backwards but the firm grip on his face forced him to stay still. He screamed as the light nearly blinded him, even as his eyes were squeezed firmly shut. His own hands came to claw at Aziraphale, begging for him to let go, so he could hide from whatever huge miracle the angel was performing.

When the light faded, Crowley was reduced nothing more than a gagging, shivering mess. What had the angel done? He tried to open his eyes and found he couldn’t do so, they seemed glued shut. Thankfully the city noises had faded away and the light in the room was much darker. 

Aziraphale’s hands gently let go of his face, guiding him down to rest on a silk pillow. _Wait._ Where were they?

Belatedly, Crowley realized Aziraphale had transported them back home. Back to their room.

 _Ah_ , that was much better. Much quieter.

He was laid on a soft surface he recognized as their bed and as soon as a very thick blanket was settled around him, he passed out.

** 6 years ago (2024)  **

**** **"Love?" Aziraphale shook Crowley in his sleep as the demon dozed on the couch. Well, not really dozed, he was currently within the throws of a nightmare, "Wake up!"**

**Crowley whined and thrashed wildly.**

**"Shh, it's just a nightmare. Be a dear and wake up for me?" Aziraphale pleaded, "Come on."**

**With a final blood curdling scream the demon's eyes flew open and he sat upright, the angel right next to him, holding his hand tightly. Crowley panted as he took in his surroundings, finally landing on the angel beside him. "Not burning."**

**Aziraphale shook his head with a smile, "Not burning," he confirmed.**

**The demon sighed shakily and nodded, squeezing the angel's hand tightly, "Can I hug you?"**

**"Yes, of course." Aziraphale whispered, letting the serpent cling to him as if his life depended on it. The angel’s arms went up to surround him, a hand in the demon’s red curls. He hesitated a moment, "I was thinking… maybe I should get a new place."**

**"What?" Crowley murmured, burrowing his head into the angels neck.**

**Aziraphale cleared his throat, "I was thinking of looking for a new place to live. I have to be honest and say that the bookshop hasn't really been the same since… since it burned down. Adam did a fantastic job but, I think it's served its purpose for long enough. Time to move on."**

**"But…" The demon shifted nervously, "You've had this place for years… centuries! Where will your books go?"**

**"They will come with me of course, and really dear. Time is only relative for beings like us," the angel soothed.**

**Crowley just stilled in his arms a look of fear in those golden eyes at being left behind.**

**"And… I wanted to ask… if you wanted to come with me?" Aziraphale muttered quietly.**

**A small noise escaped the demon’s mouth as he surged forward, hugging the angel even tighter. “Yesss,” he hissed.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this one is getting darker. Next chapter is probably going to be the shortest (but it’s a solid 2500 words so it isn’t _too_ short) and probably one of the darkest chapters in the story. It isn’t like my other chapters, format-wise. Plus there will be many many many angsty and sick-fic bits. Unfortunately, there’s limited comfort so if you want to wait a week until the last chapter is up, I get it <3 Hope you guys stick around until the end! We’re almost there <3 <3 <3


	9. Into the Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies! Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos on the last chapter!!! <3 <3 <3 This chapter is probably going to be one of the darkest so far. It’s going to swing between flashbacks and present time quite abruptly so just a heads up (the first two flashbacks — in my head — take place within a week of each other. But other than that, the rest take place during their respective years with little correlation to each other).
> 
> There’s going to be a lot of angst and a lot of sick-fic themes here and it is packed together very tightly. So enjoy!

** 10 years ago (2020)  **

**** **"You're upset."**

**"I'm not."**

**"Then how do you explain this?!" Crowley cried out gesturing to the utter mess of the bookshop... or lack thereof. The shop was uncharacteristically spotless.**

**Aziraphale sighed exasperated, "Spring cleaning."**

**"It's September."**

**The angel glared at the demon in front of him, "What? You don't like it? I've seen how you keep your flat. I thought, if anything, you would _like_ a little less dust."**

**Crowley huffed, throwing his hands into the air, "That's not the point! This- this isn't you. Something's going on."**

**Aziraphale grumbled and turned away from the demon, "How do you know?"**

**Before Crowley could do anything, the angel was out the door and vanishing in the foot traffic outside. Leaving only a gaping demon left in the shop.**

Crowley woke up blinded and screaming and he couldn't remember why. 

"Dear, love please," Aziraphale whispered brokenly from beside him. There was an arm on his shoulder rubbing warmth into him, yet he still felt cold. There was another hand on his back, stroking up and down his spine with the barest stroke of fingers.

Crowley panted as he tried to catch his breath, "Aziraphale," he gasped, trying to follow that warmth and lean into it.

"There's a love," the angel held him tighter as Crowley shivered. The demon struggled to blink away the darkness as he looked up at Aziraphale's solid figure pressed against him.

"Whatsss happened?" he attempted to ask, but his tongue didn't seem to sit right in his mouth and he just felt that he was hissing.

Aziraphale's breath hitched and he looked down at the demon with wide watery eyes, "Are you awake?" his voice was high and tight.

The demon nodded and pressed his face into the angel's chest, "Don't 'member," he grumbled. Where was he? How did he get here? Why was Aziraphale here?

The angel shifted next to him, a hand leaving his side momentarily so the angel could wipe his eyes, "You've been asleep for days," he finally said, voice forcibly calm. "After I got you back here, you passed out and have been plagued with nightmares and sickness."

"Huh," the demon sighed and enjoyed the sort of rocking motion Aziraphale was setting. He belatedly wondered if it was even Aziraphale who was rocking or if it was just his nauseated body, "Demonsss don't get sick," he muttered as his eyes drifted shut and he let the darkness take over again.

**10 years ago (2020)**

**"Six thousand years!" Crowley cried out, bursting through the bookshop doors. "I've known you for six thousand years."**

**Aziraphale barely even looked up, discreetly wiping a stray tear from his cheek. "Yes, and...?"**

**"So," Crowley sputtered uselessly, "so that has to _mean_ something." **

**"People have known me longer." Aziraphale replied calmly, turning a page in his book.**

**"Oh really? Who?" The demon groaned and turned aimlessly, not wanting to get into an argument about precreation times, "You know what don't answer that, it's besides the point. I've known you for when it _counts_ , alright? Just tell me what's going on. What has you upset now?"**

**"Who says I'm upset?"**

**"Aziraphale!" Crowley cried out, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes. This was all so frustrating. Something was so obviously _wrong._ Why couldn’t Aziraphale just _tell_ him so he could fix it? **

**The angel looked up and held his gaze, taking in how hurt the demon looked, shivering and pale in the middle of the shop. There was a moment of silence before he sighed disheartenedly, "I don't know."**

The room was pitch black when he awoke again. There was a thick scent of lavender throughout the room and tartan blankets were tucked up to his chin. Yet, he was shivering and didn't know why. No one else was in the room with him. 

"Angel?" He called out weakly into the vast silence of the house. Aziraphale was supposed to be here, wasn’t he?

A minute later, there was the sound of padded footsteps coming to the door. It creaked open, letting in a soft golden light, "Crowley?" the angel whispered, "Are you awake?" Aziraphale stepped into the room, his eyes red and puffy but there was a hopeful smile on his face.

"Yeah," the demon struggled against the blankets, managing to throw off a few layers growing increasingly alarmed at how weak and uncoordinated his corporation had become.

The angel was at his side in an instant, helping him sit up against the pillows. Crowley groped at the angel's forearms for support and groaned heavily as he finally got sitting upright, but there was something missing.

"Where's my ring?" he asked, eyes blown wide as he searched the angel's eyes for an answer. Was this all a fevered dream? Had he really imagined the perfect life for himself and was just waking up? " _Where is it_?" his pitch and volume rose in panic as one of his hands pressed against his neck and chest for where the necklace and his wedding ring should have been.

"Shh, love it's right here." Aziraphale soothed, running a hand through the demon's hair while gesturing to the bedside table.

When his eyes fell on the gold band he relaxed into the pillows reaching for it weakly. He wanted to put it on, yet his hand wouldn't cooperate. It kept clenching and jerking against his will. 

"What's going on?" he asked, the feeling of helplessness setting in. He could barely move or concentrate on one thing at a time. His memory was shot to hell and the world was starting to fuzz around Aziraphale.

"I believe you have fallen ill my dear," the angel cupped his face, eyes searching the demon's own as his world seemed to unfocus, "Can you stay awake a little longer for me? You should eat something."

The energy in his body seemed to sap away and before he could even nod or shake his head, the room faded to black.

** 9 years ago (2021) **

**** **"Is that a candle?" Crowley asked incredulously looking at the white candle on the side table. Thank someone it wasn't lit but it still rubbed the demon's scales the wrong way.**

**Aziraphale leaned into the room gaze landing on the candle, his entire corporation radiated guilt. He hummed in confirmation and then walked away quickly.**

**Crowley stuttered for a minute in disbelief before following the angel, "Do you want this place to burn down again? Why is it here?"**

**"Oh, no reason." Aziraphale said, picking up his pace to escape the demon’s questions; but the shop was only so big. He was soon weaving back and forth through the aisles, trailed by a confused demon.**

**"Aziraphale," Crowley groaned, exasperated. "Why do you have a candle?”**

**"Ambiance?" Aziraphale muttered weakly, tracing the shelves with his fingers in search of a decent distraction, “Oh look, my dear I didn’t know I had a first edition of ‘The Ruby in the Smoke,’ How fascinating.”**

**The demon rounded on him, anticipating his movements easily. Aziraphale stopped in his tracks as Crowley raised an eyebrow.**

**Aziraphale gulped, immediately started to fidget his fingers in front of him. Clearly, Crowley wasn’t letting this go, "Uh... Never know when there's going to be a power outage?" He all but squeaked.**

**"Angel," Crowley muttered darkly, "Are there more of them?"**

**Azriaphale bit his lip before nodding his head, looking like he was on the edge of tears. "I'm sorry, it felt like the right thing to do in the moment."**

**The demon sighed and immediately picked up the offending candle off the table, checking behind a pile of inconspicuous books to find the rest of them.**

**"It's okay Aziraphale, if you want candles, we can keep them at my place where there isn't so much… kindling." He turned to the angel with the armful of candles and an apologetic smile on his face. He really wasn’t all that angry, just nervous about another accident occurring in the shop and hurting his angel — or the things his angel loved.**

**Now, he just needed to get these out of the shop.**

**He started to make his exit when something caught his eye. The corner of the center carpet was overturned just slightly, a bit of white chalk peeking out. Crowley froze, wishing he didn’t know what those runes meant.**

**The angel followed his gaze and leapt forwards, "I can explain!" he cried out, panic clear in his eyes.**

**Crowley counted the candles in his arms and looked up at the angel in shock and betrayal, "You were trying to contact heaven?!”**

**"I didn't! I swear!"**

**Crowley just gaped at him, "W- _why_?!"**

**"I don't know!" Aziraphale sobbed, reaching for the demon who evaded his touch, walking right out of the shop with candles in tow.**

**“Crowley!” the angel cried out, racing after him.**

**They were in the Bentley. It was silent. Aziraphale was crying.**

**Only one of those three things did Crowley have a history of liking, and it wasn’t the tears currently rolling down the angel’s face.**

**The demon gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove the angel to his flat. They needed to get out of that wretched bookshop. What was Aziraphale _thinking_ trying to contact heaven after gaining their independence over a year ago? What the hell was going through that head of his?**

**"You know I love you right?" Crowley growled, breaking the silence.**

**Aziraphale just sobbed brokenly, turning away from the demon.**

**"We only have each other and a handful of humans," Crowley continued, voice softening slightly. He hated seeing the angel cry. "If you aren't happy, if- if you don't love me anymore… you have to _tell_ me. We have to communicate or else we could both end up dead. I love you too much to let you kill yourself by going back to heaven."**

**The angel choked on his tears as they jolted to a stop in front of the demon's Mayfair flat.**

**The Bentley was silent.**

**"What we're going to do." Crowley said, letting go of his deathgrip on the steering wheel to face the angel who was staring resolutely forward, "is go inside and _talk_. We have both been through shit the past few years and we need to get on the same page so we can _move on_. Whether that means together or apart it doesn't matter to me, as long as you're happy." he took off his sunglasses to pin the angel with his gaze, "Is that alright Aziraphale?"**

**The angel nodded, risking a glance over at the demon. "Yes…" he choked out. Mouth opening and closing as he tried for more words. The only thing escaping was a broken sound and a whispered, "I love you," it was barely recognizable through the angel’s hoarse voice and tears, but it was there.**

**Crowley breathed a sigh of relief and smiled as softly as he could, yet still looked pained despite his efforts.**

**"Come on then angel."**

He was walking down the hallway when Crowley came to next. The angels arm around his waist supporting him as he regained consciousness. There was a falter in his step, the sudden awareness overwhelming him. 

"It's okay love," Aziraphale was murmuring encouragingly next to him, "Just one foot in front of the other... that's it."

Crowley mumbled something back that didn't make sense and they kept their slow pace down the hall and to the kitchen. Aziraphale deposited the demon at the head of the table where a bowl of soup was steaming. He dragged another chair to his side so Crowley wouldn't lean too far to one side and fall over — as the demon was likely to.

Aziraphale stirred the soup gently and held up a spoonful to the demon's lips, "Just a bite for me... please?”

Automatically, Crowley's mouth opened and the warm liquid poured down his throat.

"Very good my love," the angel beamed. Crowley took a moment to really look at him. There were bags under his eyes and they were rimmed red, making the bright blue of his irises stand out brilliantly. Aziraphale looked pale and exhausted, the hand holding the spoon shook slightly as it stirred and lifted another bite for the demon to eat. "You're doing wonderfully," he murmured when Crowley let the spoon into his mouth again.

Crowley attempted to groan out a question or something so the angel would stop looking so sad, but all that happened was he gurgled a bit more of the soup. 

"Ah," Aziraphale let go of the spoon in favor of miracling up a napkin to wipe where Crowley had dribbled a bit, "There you are, all clean."

"Angel…" Crowley attempted to say, finding that despite the soup, his throat was still incredibly sore. He winced at the pain.

Aziraphale cradled his face gently, "Don't try to speak love. Everything's going to be okay, alright? Just another bite."

The spoon was shaking even more as the angel lifted it to the demon's lips. So much so that a bit spilled down onto Crowley's clothes which he now realized were the angel's own tartan pajamas. 

Aziraphale cursed, wiping at the mess he made.

He tried again with the spoon and Crowley leaned forward slightly to take the food before the angel accidentally spilled again. Aziraphale took a steadying breath and continued to keep feeding the demon until they were halfway through the bowl and Crowley’s stomach started to flip nauseatingly. He pursed his lips and didn't let another bite through, refusing to get sick again.

"Just one more please?" Aziraphale pleaded, eyes wide and begging.

Crowley really wanted to, he really did, but he didn’t want to be sick again. It would just make more of a mess for Aziraphale to clean. 

He shook his head.

"Okay, okay," the angel sighed despondently, "Let's get you back to bed then." He stood and helped the demon to standing as well.

Crowley’s knees buckled and he sagged against the angel, the energy leaving him quickly. Aziraphale was quick to react and scooped under the demon's knees and back to pick Crowley up bridal style. The demon whimpered at the sudden movement and reached his arms around the angel's neck, nuzzling him there.

Aziraphale carried Crowley as if he weighed nothing, gently setting him back on the bed as if he were a delicate glass figure. The demon relaxed into the mattress and pillows while the angel piled on the blankets. When he was satisfied, he leaned over Crowley and placed a kiss at the demon's temple, where his tattoo of a snake rested.

The angel pulled away, smiling softly at him, "Get some rest." his hands threading through the demon's hair in firm gentle strokes.

"I love you," Crowley managed to get out as his eyelids became too heavy to keep open anymore. He felt the angel needed to hear it. Aziraphale shouldn’t look so sad, especially because of him. Crowley may not be able to do much at the moment, but he could say those three words over and over until he drifted off once again.

**8 years ago (2022)**

**** **“Aziraphale?” Crowley asked, entering the bookshop tentatively, “Where’d you go?”**

**The angel was nowhere to be found in the front aisles of the shop, making Crowley’s nerves go on edge. Where was he?**

**“Aziraphale?” he entered the back of the shop, seeing the angel kneeling on the floor head bowed against the couch. His hands were clasped tightly in his lap, “Angel?”**

**Aziraphale didn’t respond, the only movement was the shuddering rise and fall of his shoulders.**

**Crowley was by his side in an instant, “Hey, hey...? What’s wrong?” he asked softly.**

**The angel shakily unclasped his hands and looked up to the demon with watery eyes, “She’s not answering.”**

**The demon’s heart fell slightly as he reached out to place a comforting arm on Aziraphale’s shoulder, “Oh angel, it’s okay...”**

**“No it’s not! How do I- How do I…?” he broke off into a sob.**

**Crowley pulled the now crying angel into his arms. “Shh… it’s going to be okay. Just give it time.”**

**Aziraphale shook his head as he clutched at the demon tightly, shivering against the warmth. Crowley just held him tighter, rocking slightly to try and give as much comfort as possible.**

**“I love you. We will get through this, I promise,” he whispered, not caring if Aziraphale was listening or not. He let the angel grieve.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof! _I_ get chills rereading through this, haha. But I guess that’s sort of why I wrote it in the first place — just pure self indulgent angst.   
> Anyway, many of you were concerned in the previous chapter about Crowley being locked out of the shop and since these flashbacks are also unpleasant ones as well, I’ll give you guys a bit of context:  
> When I was coming up with the plot of the story, my core idea was that for the first few years after Armageddon, Aziraphale was going through a very, very, _very_ rough time.   
> I want to say that canonically, Aziraphale tends to lash out/push Crowley away when he gets scared. And in my head, he gets scared a lot after gaining his independence, so there would be a lot of these instances (with varying degrees of intensity — whether he just dissociates for a day or spends weeks upon weeks reading while ignoring the rest of the world. Or locking Crowley out of the shop — although I only see that happening once). Of course, the candle thing is rock bottom and afterwards they work together to heal. He still has some bad days — hence the last flashback — but they are relatively less frequent and less intense.  
> Also, I should mention that not all of the first few years after Armageddon are like this. They do have many good times/memories and do enjoy life and love each other very much (as some other flashbacks earlier in the story reflect). This chapter just has all the bad flashbacks because it’s supposed to reflect the pain Crowley’s in during present times — or something like that haha idk what I’m doing.
> 
> Dang this note is getting long so if you’re still with me, great!   
> I figured I should give everyone a heads up that the next and LAST chapter of this story is going to be from Aziraphale’s perspective. His perspective started this story and his perspective will end this story.   
> There is going to be a shit ton of angst at the beginning (because I freaking love the stupid principality so much and he has so much potential for angst) but things get better, I promise.  
> I hope you enjoyed! And prepare yourself for the end! <3 <3 <3


	10. The Guilt of an Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations everyone!!! We made it to the end <3 Once again, just a heads up that we are getting Aziraphale’s perspective for the entirety of this chapter and we get a sweet little ending that everyone wanted… but before that: angst!!! Beware, the first half of this is pretty angsty but we get the good stuff when we need it ;)
> 
> (Yes, the first few flashbacks are directly taken from the show. Idk why I did that but I did)

** 429 years ago (1601) **

**** **“And what does your friend think?”**

**“Oh he’s not my friend. We’ve never met before- we don’t know each other.”**

**“I think you should get on with the play.”**

** 162 years ago (1862) **

**** **“Out of the question”**

**“Why not?”**

**“It would destroy you, I’m not bringing you a suicide pill Crowley.”**

**“That’s not what I want it for. Just insurance.”**

**“I’m not an idiot, Crowley. Do you know what trouble I would be in if… if they knew I’d been fraternizing? It’s completely out of the question.”**

**“Fraternizing?!”**

**“Well whatever you wish to call it. I don’t think there’s any point in discussing it any further.”**

**“I have lots of other people to fraternize with, angel.”**

**“Of course you do-”**

**“-I don’t need you.”**

**“Well, the feeling is mutual… obviously.”**

**“Obviously.”**

**63 years ago (1967)**

**** **“You go too fast for me Crowley.”**

** 11 years ago (2019) **

**** **“How long have we been friends? Six thousand years!”**

**“Friends? We’re not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common, I don’t even like you!**

**“You _do_.”**

**“Even if I did know where the antichrist was I wouldn’t tell _you_. We’re on opposite sides.”**

**“We’re on _our_ side.”**

**“There is no ‘ _our side_ ,’ Crowley. Not anymore... It’s over.”**

**“Right… Well then… Have a nice doomsday!”**

** 10 years ago (2020) **

**** **“You know... I could hunker down at your place, slither over and watch you eat cake? I could bring a bottle- a case of- something drinkable?”**

**“No, I- I’m afraid that would be breaking all the rules... Out of the question! I’ll see you… when this is over?”**

**“Right. Um… I’m setting my alarm clock for July... Goodnight angel.”**

** 8 years ago (2022) **

**** **"Talk to me."**

**Aziraphale bit his lip looking up at the demon now sitting next to him.**

**"You can't just run out like that, what happened?"**

**"I don't kno-" Aziraphale stopped himself and sighed deeply. Crowley waited patiently beside him, nestled on their bench in St. James Park, "I feel like I should be past this," the angel finally muttered.**

**"These things take time, angel," Crowley said, reaching over to touch the angel's hand lightly, "Don't beat yourself up about it. Despite what it feels like, you don't have a lot of control over what's happening. Heaven has had it's clutches in you for a long time, those wounds don't go away overnight."**

**The angel felt tears sting his eyes, "It isn't fair to you!"**

**Crowley sighed and gripped the angels hand firmly, "It's okay. I know what's going on and I am going to be here every step of the way, no matter how long it takes."**

**Aziraphale ripped his hand out of the demon's grip, folding it neatly in his lap, "You shouldn't." he snapped, tears pricking at his eyes. "I don't understand why you waste your time on me."**

**"Angel-"**

**"You should go Crowley."**

**"You don't mean that."**

**"Maybe I do."**

**The demon hesitated, taking a deep breath, "I love you." he muttered, standing to leave.**

**Aziraphale winced and turned away, hiding the tears that had started to trickle down his cheeks. Crowley didn’t see as he walked past Aziraphale. Neither did he see the way the angel mouthed those three words back.**

Aziraphale sighed dejectedly. 

He was on his knees by Crowley's bedside once again, hands clasped in prayer. He had been doing that a lot lately… praying. He couldn’t remember why, it hadn’t been helping all that much. 

It had been weeks since Crowley’s health had deteriorated to this.

After Crowley fell ill in the book shop, the first one or two weeks after had been quite the battle. The demon had been throwing up, heaving whatever Aziraphale had gotten into his stomach up and onto the floor. When the serpent stopped eating, it didn’t stop him from dry heaving until his throat tore open and the acid in his stomach burned away enough so that he started throwing up blood. 

It was absolutely gut wrenching to watch the love of his life go through that. But the violent sickness wasn’t all. The worst were the nightmares and screams.

Crowley had had nightmares before — either about the shop burning down or Falling — and the demon had screamed then. However, back before he lost his memories, it was a rare occurrence. The odd night in the month or year where he had the nightmare — usually comforted by the angel waking him and having a good cuddle. 

But there was no waking Crowley these times. 

Even when the demon’s eyes were open, it didn’t necessarily mean he was awake — Aziraphale found out quickly. The demon screamed nearly every hour during those first few weeks. And there was only so much the angel could do when the demon was still in the throes of this torture; but he tried his best. 

The entire ordeal was all so awful and Aziraphale was terrified for every second of it. He kept trying everything to get Crowley to wake up, stop screaming, or just to stop vomiting. There had been an array of miracles — that only seemed to make things worse — and millions of prayers to his mother for guidance or assistance but… nothing.

With little else to do, the angel cried. He cried for days on end, feeling utterly helpless as his love was tortured by something unknown. 

But then things changed. 

As awful as the first few weeks of screams and sickness had been, this last week was the worst by far. 

Crowley had stopped everything. Gone perfectly still. 

From the screams and nightmare induced convulsing to silence? It was most unnerving. Aziraphale spent every day at Crowley’s side, praying and pleading with someone for his love to just wake up. That’s all the angel needed at the moment.

Aziraphale wiped a few stray tears away as he looked over at his demonic husband, completing the prayer. 

He rested his head on the demon's chest, finding comfort in the way it gently raised up and down with shallow breaths. It was the only sign he had to know that Crowley wasn't completely gone. That the demon hadn’t left him just yet.

Aziraphale’s tears came faster at the thought of the serpent going somewhere he couldn't follow. He just wanted Crowley to wake up. Just wanted to see his eyes shining down on him, those hands to take his. He wanted to say 'I love you' a million more times in a million new ways.

The angel sobbed quietly into the demon's chest, clinging to him as if he was a lifeline. 

Aziraphale didn’t know what he would do without him, and didn’t want to think about it. The only constant in his life had been Crowley. The demon was his anchor when things got bad after the apocalypse. When he had relapsed into his old habits. Had kept him sane. It was heartbreaking to know that he couldn’t have been that for Crowley. That he couldn’t assist the demon in pulling through this nightmare. That he had failed at retrieving the demon’s memories, the one thing Crowley had wanted. 

Aziraphale would never give up on the demon, he knew that. But he was tired of praying and bartering with the silence. He was tired of crying for days on end and clenching his fists so hard that his nails broke his own skin. _He was tired_. And he wanted his husband back.

Eleven years ago they had said 'I love you' and five years ago they had said 'I do.' But it wasn't enough time. There would never be enough time. He wanted more.

Aziraphale sobbed harder into the demon's pliant body. He was never the strong one of the pair but he had tried. Lord knew he tried so hard during all of this to keep a strong face for Crowley, but even angels had their breaking points.

"Come back," he pleaded, body starting to shiver and shake, " _please_."

This wasn’t the first time he had begged Crowley of this. He had wrung out his throat the other day screaming it into the darkness. He had cursed the Heavens and Hell, had held the demon close as he cried his heart out and attempted desperate miracles to give Crowley the strength to pull through. The angel had hyperventilated and nearly passed himself out — until he remembered he didn’t _need_ to breathe. After that, he spent many days not breathing at all.

Aziraphale stayed kneeling at Crowley’s bedside, head on his chest for days on end. Waiting for something to happen. Willing to wait as long as it took to bring the demon back. Because Crowley _would_ come back, he just had to. There was no other option.

The angel didn’t sleep, not once during this entire ordeal. Someone had to be on guard, and that had once been Aziraphale’s only purpose. So that’s what he did. Always conscious of the rise and fall of Crowley’s chest, counting each up and down until he couldn’t anymore. Ever patient, ever waiting.

Until one day — or evening, Aziraphale wasn’t sure — something changed once again.

There was a hitch in the demon's breathing pattern. 

Aziraphale tensed from where he was kneeling, turning his face up to the demon's, looking for a sign of consciousness. _Had he imagined it?_ A little bud of hope bloomed in his chest at the thought of Crowley awakening, of an end to the silence. An end to this nightmare.

His spirits died when he found that nothing had changed in Crowley’s expression. So it must’ve been his imagination. He released a broken sound and clutched at the demon's hand, squeezing his eyes shut while feeling for a pulse — a habit he had acquired when he began to lose hope. Instead of the normally languid rhythm beneath his fingertips, the demon’s heart rate seemed to be speeding up. _That_ was unusual.

"Love?" he called out, shifting over so he was closer to Crowley's head. Something was changing within the demon’s corporation, he could _feel_ it.

There was a low sound vibrating through the demon's chest and Aziraphale held his breath. 

There was a movement behind the demon's eyelids, causing the angel to gasp. 

Was this a dream? Was Crowley going to wake up? Was he going to pull through? Was this it?

"Crowley?" Aziraphale’s voice was barely above a whisper. This couldn’t be happening. He really really _really_ wanted it to, but what if he was getting his hopes up for nothing? What if he had accidentally fallen asleep? What if this was just his imagination?

Crowley's eyes flew open, staring up at the ceiling above him. 

A high throaty whimper escaped the angel’s throat as he caught a glimpse of those golden eyes. It had been much too long since he had seen them; Aziraphale had always thought they were so beautiful. 

They flickered down to meet his own. Aziraphale’s breath caught in his throat. 

"A-angel?"

He had to pinch himself so he was certain he wasn’t dreaming. That voice, those eyes… Aziraphale gasped, the first smile since the demon was bedridden cracked across his face. It quickly dissipated as he was consumed with tears. _Crowley was awake._

He pressed kiss after sloppy kiss against the demon's palm, thanking someone for this gift, this blessing.

“Azira…” Crowley started weakly, not seeming to be able to complete the name. The demon _did_ still look awfully pale.

“Fuck,” Aziraphale choked out, trying desperately to get himself back under control. _Stop crying you idiot!_ Crowley was still sick, still hurting. And here the angel was crying over him instead of helping. The last thing he wanted was for the demon to go back under. “Sorry- sorry my love.”

Aziraphale got shakily to his feet, tears still pouring easily down his cheeks. But he wasn’t actively sobbing anymore. And if his breath hitched every few seconds, threatening to push him over the edge into a full-blown panic attack, no one needed to know.

There was a glass of water still resting on the bedside table, untouched.

“Are you- are you thirsty?” the angel struggled to get out, hands shaking as he attempted to get the demon to a sitting position but failing. His hands merely fluttered over the demon anxiously. “What hurts my dear? What do- what do you need? Please tell me.” Anything. Aziraphale was willing to do anything, to get anything. If Crowley asked for the moon, the angel would serve it up on a silver platter. He would find a way.

“Aziraphale...”

The angel tried not to get overwhelmed by the way Crowley said his name; but his bottom lip was quivering, his fists were clenched at his sides in a desperate attempt to keep himself together, he was a mere breath away from being pushed over the edge. But Aziraphale didn’t need to breathe. He just needed to keep it together for a little longer. Keep it together…

Slowly, Crowley’s cheeks seemed to regain their usual color. The demon shifted under the superfluous amount of blankets piled on him, freeing his other arm from their weight. Aziraphale fought the urge to fuss over him — mainly due to the fact that he was way too shaky to do anything helpful. He felt he was about to pass out any minute now, blood was rushing in his ears drowning out all other noises. 

Good thing he didn’t need to hear what came next.

Lanky arms were reaching for him. Thin fingers gripped the lapels of Aziraphale’s coat, tugging him forward with surprising strength for a demon who had just awoken. The angel stumbled forward, not able to stop himself from sagging against the bed as Crowley pulled him into a fierce kiss.

Aziraphale swallowed down a sob as the demon kissed him. It had seemed like forever since he had felt his love’s touch, let alone kiss. He tried valiantly to kiss back, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. His chest seized and body shuddered as he became overwhelmed at the sudden turn of events. He pulled away gasping, burying his head in the krook of the demon's neck as sobs overtook him.

“Angel, angel…” Crowley murmured. A hand appearing at the base of the angel’s neck, holding him protectively.

Words failed Aziraphale as his body went limp, half resting on Crowley and half folded over the side of the bed.

“Come here angel,” Crowley said softly, tugging uselessly at Aziraphale’s body. Not being able to do much as he was trapped underneath him.

Aziraphale fought to try to do that much — Crowley had asked after all — crawling as carefully as possible up into bed. He didn’t want to hurt the demon by being careless with where he put his limbs.

When he had successfully lied down next to his husband, he looked up into those golden eyes in awe.

“Are you okay?” Aziraphale choked out, cursing himself for being such a mess. For _someone’s sake_ , Crowley had been through shit the past few weeks! Trapped in some sort of mysterious sickness and Aziraphale was losing it over a kiss?!

Crowley nodded with a soft smile, a hand coming up to wipe at the angel’s tear stained cheeks. Aziraphale shuddered at the touch. 

“You look awful,” Crowley hummed.

The angel choked on a hysterical laugh. He couldn’t imagine how truly bad he looked right now and frankly, didn’t care. Just that Crowley was alright and okay, that’s all that mattered right now.

“Can I get you anything?” Aziraphale asked weakly, knowing that Crowley just had to say the word and he would miracle whatever it was into existence that instant.

“I’m fine angel.” Crowley said, pressing a kiss to the angel’s forehead. “I think I’m over the worst of it.”

Aziraphale released a sigh of relief, relaxing into the mattress, “Thank _someone_.” he whispered.

“Missed me?” Crowley chuckled.

“Always do,” Aziraphale smiled shakily as more tears poured down his face. He was so happy, so relieved, Crowley was okay. They were going to be okay.

Crowley wiggled closer to the angel and pressed a short sweet kiss to his lips, now that the angel wasn’t actively sobbing. Aziraphale leaned into it, smiling against the demon’s lips. He had missed him _so much_.

Crowley pulled away all too soon, a sparkle in his eye. Aziraphale’s relief was palpable in his aura when he saw that the demon was looking much better already. Almost back to his old self.

“I think something might have changed during my little… spell.” Crowley muttered, resting his forehead against the angels.

Aziraphale would hardly call whatever Crowley had gone through a ‘spell’ — more like ‘horror show’ — but he hummed, waiting for the demon to continue.

“I- I think… I think I remember...”

Immediately, Aziraphale’s eyes widened at the news. That wasn’t- he couldn’t mean- _wait..._

“You _what_?” 

The demon sighed happily, “It’s not all back but I’m… remembering things. Little scenes and stuff from our history.” his eyebrows furrowed, “Was- was our first kiss at St. James Park… in front of ducks?”

Aziraphale's breath hitched and he could barely do anything but nod. His eyes filled with tears as he took in the demon that was sitting beside him. Crowley remembered. _He remembered_. 

Without warning, the angel surged forward, wrapping him up in the tightest hug he could muster. His husband was back, his memories were coming back, he was no longer in pain. Things were going to be okay.

Crowley coughed a bit at the sudden pressure but smiled, lifting an arm around the angel, “I take it whatever Gabriel and Beezlebub tried to curse us with was temporary,” he muttered.

The angel tried not to sob his relief and just clutched the demon tighter. They were going to be alright. _They were._

Before long, the exhaustion and stress of the past few weeks caught up to the angel and he fell unconscious, Crowley’s hands holding him safely. Things were going to be alright.

“Hey angel, wake up.” A calming voice sounded, drawing Aziraphale out of his sleep.

He hummed in response and rolled over to face where the noise was coming from, blinking awake groggily.

Crowley stood there, a soft smile on his face, sunglasses forgone, still in Aziraphale’s oversized pajamas. 

“I’m the one whose supposed to take century long naps, not you.” he teased with a smirk. He was holding a tray of steaming food that suspiciously smelled strikingly similar to crepes.

Aziraphale smiled back, enjoying the fogginess of his brain as he just took in his husband in the early morning light. “Has it really been a century?” he muttered with a yawn. Last he remembered, Crowley had awoken from the awful few weeks of torture with his memories intact — or at least in the process of coming back.

The demon shook his head and placed the tray on the bedside table, leaning against the bed to move a stray curl out of the angel’s eye. “No, only a few days I think. I was asleep too so I’m not really sure.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Aziraphale hummed relishing the way Crowley’s fingers seemed to caress his cheek. He could stay like this forever.

“I should say the same about you. You’re looking better, probably feel even better after some breakfast.” Crowley pulled away slightly to show Aziraphale the breakfast he had made for him, “Crepes! A sprinkle of sugar and a freshly squeezed lemon. No miracles. Just as you like it.” the demon grinned proudly, “I _remembered_.”

The angel inhaled deeply, and smiled up at the demon, “You’re too good to me, love.”

Crowley blushed and bent down to place a kiss on the angel’s forehead, “It’s the least I could do.” he said quietly.

“Oh my dear…” Aziraphale reached for the demon, pulling him into a proper kiss this time. Things had been tough on the both of them, but they had prevailed. He leaned away just far enough so he could speak, “I should be the one cooking _you_ breakfast my love. Are you sure you’re feeling alright? No aches or pains?”

Crowley grinned and placed the tray in Aziraphale’s lap, “I don’t need you doting on me angel, I’m feeling fine. Better than fine actually! Not a physical ailment in sight.”

“And your head, dear? The memories? How are they treating you?” Aziraphale watched as Crowley wiggled back under the covers and sidled up next to the angel. He knew not all those memories were exactly pleasant, Aziraphale couldn’t imagine what it must feel like being bombarded with them all at once.

The demon frowned, “Well… it doesn’t _hurt_... per se. It feels sort of like one of your overstuffed suitcases you have me drag along whenever we go somewhere. Like a crammed bag but instead of clothes or books, it’s memories.”

Aziraphale hummed, not liking how the demon explained it at all. “You’re not going to break at the seams then are you?” he asked.

Crowley smiled and pressed a kiss into the angel’s shoulder, “No, I won’t. Promise. I’ve already sorted through a lot of them and it happens subconsciously as well, so the pressure is already dissipating bit by bit. You don’t have to worry.”

The angel sighed and relaxed against the headboard, enjoying the golden irises staring warmly up at him. He loved those eyes and he was glad Crowley wasn’t actively in pain anymore.

The demon grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye “Speaking of which, I _remembered_ that I had a little surprise for you... before our lives turned to shit.”

“Surprise?” 

“Don’t tell me you have already forgotten,” Crowley threw an arm over the angel’s chest, pressing closer, “Before Beezlebub and Gabriel tried to take away our memories, I told you I had a surprise.”

Aziraphale flushed a little in embarrassment. He did not remember that, “Forgive me for not remembering that my dear, that night is one I wish to forget.”

Crowley giggled softly, pressing a kiss to the angel’s temple, “Understandable. But… it’s probably the one piece of information that _I_ know and _you_ don’t.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.”

“Pray tell, what is it then?” Aziraphale grinned down at the demon currently doing his best to coil around his body, without disturbing the tray of food on the angel’s lap.

Crowley blushed and wiggled down until he was resting against Aziraphale’s chest, “Well, I remember saying ‘I love you’, I remember our first kiss, and I remember getting married.” he said quietly, squeezing the angel tightly, “I remember moving here and I remember sending Adam off to university… but angel, we missed a step.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows drew together, not quite sure where Crowley was going with this. He was not seeing the fault in the logical step they had progressed in their relationship. They did all the correct steps.

“Humans… when humans get married- remember when Anathema and Newt did? A few years ago?” The demon blinked up at the angel, “they went away for a few weeks afterwards.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale frowned. He hadn’t really been paying attention all that much to that part, all caught up in the ceremony and the foods and such. They didn’t visit the couple enough to notice if they weren’t at their home for a few weeks.

“It’s called a ‘honeymoon’.” Crowley stated with a satisfied smile, “It’s like a vacation you’re supposed to take after you get married. Just the two of us.”

Aziraphale hummed, it did sound vaguely familiar but he couldn’t say for sure. Humans came up with all kinds of traditions throughout the centuries it was hard to keep track of which ones were still in use. 

“So I was thinking of taking you on one. We could go to all our favorite places. France for your crepes, East Asia for your sushi, even Rome for the oysters! Though I don’t think Partonis’ restaurant is still there.” Crowley sighed dreamily, “It was all supposed to be really lovely... But then we had that little hiccup.”

“I’d hardly call it a hiccup my dear,” Aziraphale muttered. 

What Crowley had experienced was hardly something to just throw under the rug with a phrase like that. Despite the seeming painlessness of the curse at first, Aziraphale had been there through it all. He had seen first hand how much Crowley was hurting. But he couldn’t fault the demon for wanting to move past it. It would only hurt them both to dwell on the subject.

Aziraphale leaned into the demon’s arms, “But the moon made of honey does sound like a very fun trip for the two of us, we could even head back to that desert in Africa to stargaze. I know you love that place. Or perhaps you would fancy terrorizing some more of the earth's rainforests?”

Crowley chuckled weakly against the angel’s body, “Sounds perfect angel.”

Aziraphale sighed and placed the tray back on the bedside table so he could properly cuddle the demon — the crepes could wait. “But we don’t have to do it all now. We should get some rest and get our bearings again before we even think of leaving this house. Make sure there aren’t any lingering issues..”

“Of course,” Crowley murmured drowsily against Aziraphale’s collarbone, placing a soft kiss there. “I trust your judgment.”

“I love you very much my dear.” Aziraphale said, pressing a kiss onto the top of the demon’s head.

“I love you too.” Crowley managed to get out before he started to snore lightly. Already exhausted. 

The angel threaded his fingers through the demon’s locks and smiled down at him fondly. He realized belatedly that Crowley had put the golden ring back onto his finger. It was shining now in the morning light, same as his own silver band. 

Aziraphale’s heart soared.

These past few weeks had been rough for the both of them, but they had made it through. They were okay — better than okay. Heaven and Hell may still come for them; but now, being wrapped up in the demon’s arms, it didn’t matter. They were resilient, whatever their former bosses threw at them, Aziraphale was confident they could handle it. They were stronger together and as long as they stayed that way, nothing could break them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far and for finishing the story!!! It was a ton of fun to write and edit and I hoped you enjoyed it as much as I did. I will miss looking forward to all your lovely comments every friday but I want to thank all of you that have been keeping up with each and every update and giving me free serotonin with your comments <3 I hope the ending is everything you hoped it would be and that it was worth all the angst <3 lots of love and happy reading!
> 
> (If you have questions about the story or just want to talk, feel free to drop a comment or send me an ask/message on tumblr!)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! I'll post again next Friday <3 Come hang out with me on [tumblr](https://organizechaoss.tumblr.com/) !


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